


You Were Looking for an Artist

by saruma_aki



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Friendship, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Build, bottom legolas, innocent Legolas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:06:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2829320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saruma_aki/pseuds/saruma_aki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had graduated, he was free to start his life, to proceed with his dreams. He was free, but for some reason that freedom was not enough to fill that gaping hole in his heart. It was not enough that he had plenty of friends who were all true and kind and always were there for him. No, he desired more. Working as an author was tiring work when you didn't have inspiration, but one day inspiration came walking into his life when a certain blonde beauty came holding up a pile of flyers, saying "you said you were looking for an artist" and turning his world upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're Letting Me Stay?

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first story that I'm ever posting on here, so please be nice. I won't ramble on too long, but I just wanted to let you know that this is my first story, so please be kind with your comments. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Flames make me smile because at least I know you took time to read my work and comment.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any character from Middle Earth. All rights go to their respective owners.
> 
> On with the story!
> 
> P.S  
> This is unbeta'd. Sorry OTL

There were many things Aragorn considered wrong with his life after he graduated. For starters, his friends seemed to all but grow up rather quickly the second they exited the doors of the university and proceeded to move on with their lives. No longer were they the foolish people of old, except for maybe Merry and Pippin, but they were far more mature now than they had been before. Of course, the childish sides were still there in his friends, but it seemed like those were sides now that were specifically reserved for celebrations or meet-ups after not having seen each other for a while. Another thing Aragorn found wrong in his life was that whenever he went out and looked at the people on the streets talking with someone, he would feel a strange longing in his heart that he would always smother as quickly as it came. He had friends, there was no need for him to feel alone, but he did, rather predictably, according to his beloved sister Arwen who insisted that what he was missing was love. Aragorn always visibly cringed at the word, preferring to live his life without having any interest in anyone romantically.

Those were just the two main things wrong with Aragorn’s life, or at least his opinions on what was wrong with his life, although in full honesty, his life was seemingly perfect. He was a rather famous author under the pseudonym of Strider and had a rather large fan base for his world popular book known as _The March to War._ It was a book he had come up with when he had been ten and he had only just finished writing it and editing it to be a more mature story. It had rather graphic depictions of the violence in war, but it held a hidden meaning of the evils of the world and how only those who are pure at heart or those who had others to back them up could overcome such bitter challenges, even in the face of death. It was a book based on friendship and one Aragorn had thought wasn’t too well written, but considering that it had sold over a billion copies and had gartered enough popularity for people to decide to make a movie out of it, Aragorn thought slightly different.

But here sat the mighty writer, looking nothing like the great man his readers presumed he was as he sat at a table in Starbucks all alone. For anyone who knew that Aragorn was Strider, they would overlook him for his presence was nothing to behold. With his mussed dark locks of brown with tips that brushed just a bit past his shoulder and weary grey eyes along with tan skin and a tired look upon his face, no one would have guessed he was Strider. No, he just looked like a pitiful man who was in desperate need of rest.

Rubbing his chin, fingers brushing against the stubble of a beard gracing his face, Aragorn released a sigh as he looked through his newest draft for a chapter of a story he had been working on and immediately disliking it. He had lost his muse, his drive for writing. His muse had always been his school life because something out there wanted to make his life a living hell while he was in school, but apparently now that his hardships had proved to bring something successful around, whoever had thought screwing with him was fun had given up and stripped him of his muse. Tapping the down arrow on his computer insistently, Aragorn sighed before closing the window after saving the draft despite his complete hate for it. He had published three other books after _The March to War._ One had been of an epilogue to it and the death of the main character, the other of a prequel to the main characters life and the third had been a completely different story line that had been written in the eyes of a pup and told of the difficult life of his seven year old master.

The last book had been a true story of a small boy he had seen resting in an alley, though now he attended a school and had a home after receiving help from Aragorn in exchange for his life story. It had been a rather sad story to write, though Aragorn had thoroughly enjoyed it because it showed the truth of the world that people tended to blatantly ignore in favor of trying to continue on with a life they had built for themselves. Thirty percent of the money made from the sales of the book was given to an orphanage to buy new things for the children; twenty percent went to pay for the seven year old boy’s education and for his dog’s check-ups and shots at the vet. The remaining fifty percent was as usual for Aragorn and his editor and the publishing company. The book had as good of sales as _The March to War_ , something he found himself rather pleased about because if people had ignored such a story as they did many things, Aragorn would have felt his hope dwindle for humanity.

Lifting his cup of coffee to his lips, he pressed his parted lips to the small plastic opening before letting the liquid of the coffee into his mouth which he promptly then spit out as he felt the coldness against his tongue. Picking up a napkin, Aragorn wiped his mouth as if he had just drank poison, wearing a scowl as he stared at his cup of coffee in disdain. Had he been so lost in his work that it had given enough of time for his drink to cool from the scalding temperature it had been formerly? Releasing a sigh, Aragorn stood, closing his laptop and placing it in his bag as he slung his bag over his shoulder and slipped out of the coffee shop, tossing his coffee out on the way.

Outside, the November air was harsh and biting and Aragorn winced slightly at the biting cold before he continued to trudge onwards. His fingers slipped into his bag and brushed over his laptop before pressing against a pile of papers and he pulled them out along with some tape and slowly moved along, ripping off a piece of tape and placing it on the paper before pressing it to a pole. He repeated this process on various places, making sure to evenly spread out the flyers before he finally came to halt as he pressed another flyer to a brick wall in the city, the sensation of somebody following him nagging at the back of his mind, but when he turned, there was no one there. The only people outside were rushing to get to places as fast as possible so that they may not have to bear the cold any longer.

“You’re becoming paranoid, Aragorn… Pull it together,” Aragorn muttered to himself as he continued on his way, but the feeling was back and he trained his senses on his surroundings in a weak attempt to see if it was his mind playing tricks on him or if it was real and someone was tailing him. Making his steps deliberately slower, Aragorn strolled leisurely against the biting wind and listened and sure enough, he could faintly, very faintly, hear the soft brush of a person’s footsteps behind him at the same pace he was going, but when he glanced back discreetly, there was no one there, just a male looking at the flyer he had hung up and he shook his head a bit to rid himself of his paranoid thoughts before continuing on his way at a normal pace.

After having put the last of the flyers up, Aragorn headed back to his penthouse with a soft sigh slipping past his lips once more as he entered the building with a small inclination of his head to the doorman who held the door open for him and pressed the button for the elevator. No one would have guessed that a man that looked like Aragorn would live in such an expensive place. He entered the elevator, bid the doorman a good day and watched the metal doors slide closed before the elevator began its way up to the highest floor.

The day had dragged on for far too long and it was only eleven in the morning. The brunette could hardly believe this and he rubbed his temples in annoyance. He still had to finish his chapter and had to turn it into his editor soon for revising. It was a nuisance and his editor practically approved of everything. He considered giving his editor a bit of a break. He hadn’t even been focusing on Aragorn’s work anymore. His editor seemed only seemed to focus on his wife who he had just recently married. Aragorn was happy for the two, but as someone who didn’t believe in love, his happiness could only stretch so far for the two. He just prayed that love would work out for the two of them.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, into his penthouse and he looked around his home. It was large, a fire burning gently in the corner of the room. The wooden floors were polished and there was a single armchair in front of the fire place, the rest of the room being completely bare. The walls were without decoration, a simple white paint covering the walls. With soft footsteps, Aragorn made his way into his home, setting his bag down against the wall and proceeding to remove his shoes before heading up the stairs that were situated on the far side of the room, next to the balcony. Walking up the winding staircase, he made it to the top and headed into his room with a soft breath of relief as he entered his safe haven and shut the door. Despite it being a penthouse, he made sure there was only one room so that he knew always that no one would be upstairs with him if they stayed over.

He had just lain down on his bed when he heard a voice—a voice that most certainly wasn’t his own and it was coming from downstairs.

“Excuse me? Is anyone in here?” the voice called and the brunette shot out of his bed, grabbing a sword that he kept in his room for decoration, although it could still be used as a lethal weapon. Moving out of his room, he slowly made his way down the stairs, peering over the railing to see the back of what appeared to be a woman, if the long, silvery blonde locks were anything to go by. He could have sworn the voice had been a tad too low to be that of a woman. Moving down the stairs, Aragorn narrowed his eyes. What if this was a distraction?

“Who are you? Who let you up here?”

The blonde whirled around in shock and Aragorn felt his breath catch in his throat. The person before him was positively gorgeous. Blonde hair that cascaded down his back, resting at just the middle of it with two thin braids on the side, pointed ears that were abnormal in the sights of most people, but they seemed to add more to the person’s beauty, crystalline blue eyes that sparkled in the light from the fireplace, no other light being on, and pale skin that seemed to glow in the gentle light from the fire. Aragorn found his mouth dry and he probably looked like a fish out of water as the male looked at him in absolute fright before a white hand lifted up a pile of papers that Aragorn soon realized were his flyers. “You said you were looking for an artist,” the male stated and Aragorn blinked slowly, his mouth closing.

“I did…but I just put those up,” Aragorn said as he moved down the final steps and moved closer to the male who took a small step back and it was only then that Aragorn noticed that the male’s eyes were trained on his sword. Blinking, Aragorn found a grin appearing and he motioned for the male to wait before running upstairs and putting the blade away. Heading back downstairs, Aragorn half feared the male would be gone, but no, the blonde was still there, standing in the same spot he had left him, but his eyes were casting about the room. “What’s your name?” He asked upon entering the room once more. The blonde’s gaze snapped back to him and he felt like he was melting under the warm gaze of those pristine blue orbs that seemed to see straight through him.

“My name’s Legolas,” the male responded and Aragorn reveled in the rich, soft tone the male used. It sounded like a most precious melody from the angels of above. “I’m an artist, though I’m not very well known, but I would like to dry to draw for you, if you’ll have me,” Legolas said with a small inclination of his head in respect. Aragorn’s mind was reeling. The last words that the male had spoken had reverted to a completely different context in Aragorn’s mind and he swallowed past the lump in his throat to speak.

“Show me some of your work first and then we shall see.” Aragorn walked over to his arm chair and sat down the male rummaged through his bag that Aragorn hadn’t realized the male had been carrying with him, though the brunette remained silent, watching the blonde in a calculating manner once he had enough time to actually get past the beauty of the male and actually look at the blue eyed angel. I shocked him, to say the least, to see that the male’s clothes were worn down, looking like they wouldn’t be able to cling to the male’s lithe frame one more day. The blonde’s shoes were these worn down brown boots, with practically no sole for the shoes any longer. It had been worn down and Aragorn wondered briefly if this male lived alright. He had heard of artists that tried to blend in with common folk or tried to stand out amongst them, but this male could blend in with the homeless and stick out amongst the common and the rich. The faded and torn dark green cloak the male wore seemed to be the only protection the blonde had against the biting cold of the bitter November air as the time neared winter. November had only started two days ago and already it felt like it was January.

“Here you go.”

Aragorn had found himself so lost in thought that he hadn’t realized that the male had stopped looking through his torn and beat down backpack and retrieved a sketchbook that seemed to be the only new thing the male owned, other than his warm youthful appearance. Aragorn silently took the sketchbook from the male, noticing how the blonde seemed to handle it with great care and he decided to treat it as such as well and he placed it in his lap and began to gently go through the pages, his eyes widening as he looked at the pictures. They were drawings of some of the most beautiful things he had ever seen, ranging from the sunlight gleaming through the treetops to the sparkling of the moon in the reflection of a lake. Every couple or so drawings, though, Aragorn would find a picture of a man, sitting in the window seat at Starbucks with a laptop and a cup of coffee and his eyes widened as he saw it was himself. His gaze flicked to where the blonde stood and he wondered how to phrase his next sentence, but the blonde seemed to have caught on faster than he expected because he spoke.

“You’re always there at that Starbucks. I found you looking my way once, but you weren’t looking at me, but at the outdoors with a longing in your eyes. It captivated me and I had to draw it and then it just became a habit that every time I saw you, I would draw how you looked and there would always be a different expression on your face…” Legolas trailed off and Aragorn blinked as he saw the male shift in his spot slightly uncomfortably and he turned the page and couldn’t help but to stare at the picture as he noticed the female sitting across from him and that there were certain spots on the page where the paper sunk in slightly and crumpled a bit as if water had been splashed onto it and dried. “Please don’t think lower of me…” he heard Legolas whisper and his head jerked up to fix the blonde with a stony stare.

“Are you some sort of stalker?” Aragorn hissed and his expression softened a bit when he saw the bewildered expression that crossed the blonde’s face as he looked at Aragorn.

“No! No, I would never do that sort of thing—I wouldn’t. It’s just,” Legolas paused for a bit and stepped closer to Aragorn and Aragorn felt himself tense, but when Legolas didn’t touch him as he reached out, he realized the male was only taking back his sketchbook, gently moving it with slender fingers before backing away and placing it gently in his bag, “you fascinated me, is all,” Legolas finished with a small sigh as he picked up his bag. “Well, I’ll take my leave. I assume you won’t want to work with someone who you assume to be a stalker. I apologize for taking up your time,” Legolas mumbled as he gave a small bow which Aragorn found slightly odd for the male to be doing in this day and age, but didn’t question it. Watching the male make his way back to the elevator, Aragorn slowly stood from his seat.

“What would you like in payment for your work?” Aragorn asked and he watched as the blonde froze in spot, slowly turning around and looking at Aragorn. “I have no immediate cash on me if you want your pay immediately, but I can go withdraw some from the bank if y—”

“A place to stay,” Legolas mumbled and Aragorn blinked in surprise and he found himself wanting to comfort the male before him who seemed so small now against the white of the walls. “I’m sorry, I should go.” He turned away once more and Aragorn blinked in surprise and before he could stop himself he had turned away, heading to his stairs.

“Come with me and get some rest. I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed for the night,” Aragorn said and he glanced at Legolas out of the corner of his eye and he felt a foreign sense of happiness envelope him as he saw Legolas smile and remove his shoes, placing them by the elevator before walking up to the brunette hesitantly, but with a grace like no other and Aragorn paused to let the blonde catch up.

“You’re letting me stay?”

“Only on two conditions, besides the obvious fact that you’ll be working with me, which you must agree to; one, you have to let me see all of your belongings so that I may rest assured that you’re not dangerous,” he watched Legolas nod his head, “and two, you have to let me buy you some new clothes because those don’t look like they’ll last much longer.” The ashamed look that crossed the male’s face had not been what Aragorn was expecting, but he reached his hand out, brushing a stray long of blonde out of the male’s face and marveling at how soft the porcelain skin felt against his fingertips. “There is no shame in the way you have lived your life. The fact that you’ve survived is proof enough hat you are stronger than most and your clothe do not matter as much as your heart, but I would like to see some new clothe on you because I fear you’ll fall ill in this weather with what you are wearing.” Aragorn watched as the corners of Legolas’s mouth curled upwards in a small smile and Aragorn returned it with one of his own before beginning to walk up the stairs once more before pausing. “You’re not a criminal, are you?”

“No!” Legolas once more had that completely bewildered look on his face, eyes wide in surprise and a slightly appalled expression on his face and Aragorn couldn’t blame him for it, but he had to make sure.

“Good. I just wanted to make sure. Now, come along. Let’s get you into a bath and then I’ll find you some clothes to borrow, okay?” Aragorn continued to walk, casting a glance back to see that Legolas had given him a nod of confirmation before following. “My name’s Aragorn. It’s a pleasure to be working and living with you, Legolas.”


	2. Our Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter two of You Were Looking for an Artist. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and I'm sorry if it's bad. I tried my best. I wanted to thank those who commented and those who gave me kudos on this story. They made my day, truly. Thank you for that. Without further ado, here is chapter two!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except for any original minor character that is not from Middle Earth. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S  
> This chapter is once more unbeta'd. I tried to beta it, but I'm pretty lousy at catching my own mistakes. Sorry...

Aragorn lead Legolas up the stairs silently, noticing how he barely heard the male’s feet against the polished wood of the floor, though his own seemed to be obnoxiously loud and his steps echoed around the penthouse. The only noise other than their footsteps was the crackling from the fire that grew more distant as they ascended the stairs before reaching the top and walking over to where his bedroom was located. In the penthouse, he had one bedroom, one office, one relaxation room which consisted of a Jacuzzi and practically nothing more, and the bathroom which consisted of a bath large enough to be a pool and a toilet and sink that were always clean and he kept them spotless since he was to see them every day.

Entering his room, he stepped to the side for Legolas to enter which the blonde did, although only after a moment’s hesitation and Aragorn could understand that as he cast a look around and saw that his room was probably the most uninviting place in the house since there were so many things upon the walls that should probably have existed a millennia ago when such things were used. A set of armor was on a mannequin body in the corner along with a crown upon the man’s head and Aragorn watched as Legolas stepped silently over to it to gaze at it from a closer proximity, though he did not touch and for that, Aragorn was grateful. It had taken him a lot of searching to find someone who would make such armor and if ever put into a battle, the armor would actually work, though it was useless in the current time period, for no longer did anyone rush into war clad in metal while waving swords.

Legolas then moved from the armor to a sword, one of many, which lay on a stand on the wall, sheathed into its holder, though still looking like utter perfection. Blue eyes fixed themselves on him once more, as if asking for permission to touch it and Aragorn gave a small nod of his head to show his consent and watched as delicate fingers slowly grasped the sheathed swore, lifting it from its place to turn it over in his palms. Aragorn noticed, with curiosity, that Legolas never made a move to unsheathe it, merely gazing upon it before slowly setting it back in its place.

“You do not wish to draw it?” Aragorn inquired after a moment and Legolas looked up at him from the sword, shaking his head slightly.

“I do not wish to appear as a threat,” Legolas replied in a voice so soft that if Aragorn hadn’t been listening closely, he wouldn’t have caught it. Legolas’s gaze shifted once more and he moved to the corner of the room where a bow lay untouched, standing tall and proud and Aragorn watched as Legolas gazed upon it before looking away as if he had been staring at the sun and his eyes burned.

“Have you never seen things such as these before?” Aragorn found the question escaping him before he had time to think the words through as to whether they would be insulting to the male or not and found, with great relief, that the blonde appeared undeterred from the question as he shook his head.

“No, though my father always kept a sword at his side at all times, though I never once saw him draw it, claiming it was only for self defense to scare an opponent should the situation ever call for such a thing.”

“And tell me, Legolas,” Aragorn turned around, going to his closet and looking for something that would fit the slim male standing behind him, “where is your father? Does he know how you live?” Aragorn pulled down a large white t-shirt that would undoubtedly be large on the male before him and a pair of great sweatpants before going to his drawer to get a pair of briefs for the male.

“My father is now remarried. I moved out a few years back. He has no knowledge of how my life has been as he very well shouldn’t. He would have a heart attack if he saw what my life became after I left his protective clutches,” Legolas mumbled and Aragorn paused in folding the clothes, looking over at Legolas to see the blonde was once more gazing at the bow with a rather sad look on his face and Aragorn felt a small twinge of guilt in his chest for having brought it up.

“Forgive me for making you speak of things you would prefer not to,” Aragorn breathed out as he continued to fold his clothes and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was glancing at Legolas, he would have missed the kind smile that appeared on the pink lips of the beautiful male before him. A silence fell over them as Aragorn finished folding the clothes into a neat pile before he walked over to a drawer and pulled out a clean, white towel before motioning for the blonde to follow him as he moved towards the bathroom located just down the hall from his room. They moved in a companionable silence to the bathroom and out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn could see Legolas looking around with an interest so obvious that it intrigued Aragorn a bit. Normally people would attempt to hide their interest in fear of being viewed at indecent, but the male next to him was so obvious and honest, that Aragorn couldn’t help but feel a bit relaxed by this.

Upon entering the bathroom, Aragorn had to hold Legolas back from nearly falling into the bath. His bath tub was in the floor and there was there almost immediately after you walked in. The bath was already filled with water and Aragorn smiled a bit, knowing his beloved sister must have stopped by. They were supposed to meet for dinner and Aragorn made a small mental note to talk to Legolas of the rules of the house while he was gone. Walking along the tiles around the bath, Aragorn moved to where the counter was, setting the clothes down on top of it next to the sink.

“You may bathe in here. The soap is in its holder over there,” he pointed to where the soap lay, Legolas’s eyes following the movement, “the shampoo and conditioner is over there,” he moved his finger to another area around the tub, “and your towel will be here on the rack,” Aragorn finished as he placed the clean towel next to his own dark blue one. “Once you are done washing, you can dress and come downstairs. I’ll have some food ready, alright? You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

“None that I’m aware of…” Legolas responded, looking around the bathroom with awe and Aragorn felt a tad guilty as he saw that slight shame in the male’s eyes as he looked around. His home flaunted his money in ways that he himself didn’t and he could only imagine how the male before him felt comparing such things that Aragorn owned to the things that he had barely managed to earn. “Thank you.” The words were so quietly spoken that once more Aragorn only just barely caught them and when he looked at the blonde, he saw that the male was gently folding his cloak with great care.

“Think nothing of it. Well, I’ll leave you to clean up. Call if you need anything,” Aragorn said, casting one final look over at Legolas and he found himself almost reluctant to leave as he saw the true state of Legolas’s clothes. They were torn and weathered, but clean, though there were stains in them that seemed to not want to leave and Aragorn noticed some spots looked to be of dried blood that had managed to cling to the fabric regardless of whatever the blonde did to clean his clothes. Turning, Aragorn exited the bathroom silently and he had only walked about three steps away from the door when he heard a soft humming coming from the bathroom and silently, he crept back towards the door, pressing his ear against the wood in an attempt to hear better.

“ _Think nothing of the past. Things weren’t meant to last. And the sun rises again. Tough times will soon end._ ”

The voice was undeniably Legolas’s, if the soft, melodious ring to it was anything to go by. It sounded so quiet, so gentle, like a droplet of water sliding down a leaf, holding a great deal of emotion behind it, though they sounded suppressed like Legolas himself didn’t want to hear the words.

“ _Little leaf, now do not fret. Tough times will soon end. Do not worry over death, over what will come to pass. Do not strain your little heart. Do not waste away your tears…for times will get better, my dear. Little leaf, little leaf, do not fret…_ ”

Aragorn held his breath as he heard Legolas slowly get into the water, the soft ripples of the water lightly touching the tiles enough indication of the action and he slowly moved away from the door with soft footsteps before hurrying down the stairs to begin making some food for the two of them.

Upon entering the kitchen, though, Aragorn found himself in another ordeal, this one being on what to cook. He had no idea of what Legolas liked and he also wasn’t the greatest chef out there since he normally ordered out due to the fact that he was too busy writing or dwelling on what to write to bother himself with cooking a decent meal. Sighing, Aragorn moved quickly to his cell-phone that was located in his bag and quickly pulled it out, dialing a Japanese restaurant he kept on speed-dial. “Hello, yes, I would like to order two teriyaki chickens, please. Fried rice, vegetables—the usual, just two of them, okay?” Aragorn stated and the man on the other side agreed with a hearty laugh that made Aragorn smile. “Have it delivered as soon as possible, Bilbo. I am most grateful.”

Hanging up, Aragorn moved to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water to drink before dealing with the blonde male upstairs with the pointed ears and smooth skin. Shaking his head to rid his mind of the traitorous thoughts that plagued him, Aragorn splashed the water in his cup onto his face in an attempt to clear his mind.

“Are you okay?”

The voice startled the brunette and he whirled around, dropping the glass onto the floor and wincing as he heard it shatter. “You’re out of the bath already?” Aragorn questioned, trying to step carefully around the shattered glass and he groaned in pain as he felt one of the shards embed itself into his foot and nearly toppled over, if it wasn’t for Legolas who was there to provide as much support as he could. The blonde pushed Aragorn to sit down on one of the bar stools, Legolas went about sweeping the glass away a bit with his hands so that he could pick it up later before turning to Aragorn with a questioning look, the question lodged in his throat, but he seemed unsure of whether to speak it or not.

“Below the sink,” Aragorn grunted, wincing as he accidentally put his foot down in an attempt to shift himself into a more comfortable position. He watched silently as Legolas nimbly stepped around the shards before crouching next to the bottom of the sink and opening the cabinet silently to retrieve the first aid kit. While Legolas was moving, Aragorn took the time to take in the male’s appearance and found that his suspicions had been correct and the white t-shirt was large on Legolas, but it was a comfortable shirt. _And Legolas looks cute in it,_ a helpful part of his brain supplied and Aragorn released a groan. The blonde hurried over and Aragorn realized the poor male probably thought his groan had been in pain and although he felt bad for causing the male to worry even though they had not known each other for long, Aragorn was grateful that there was something his groan could be misunderstood for.

“Let me see your foot,” Legolas mumbled and Aragorn raised leg, an involuntary shiver rolling down his spine as he felt Legolas’s smooth fingers grasp his ankle gently as he inspected the wound, cringing at the blood dripping down. The soft pad of Legolas’s thumb caressed his ankle gently as if to soothe him as the blonde brought a pair of tweezers to his foot and gently pulled out the piece of glass slowly and gently, stopped every bit or so to dab away at the blood with a gauze. Aragorn pleaded in some part in his mind that Legolas knew what he was doing because Aragorn was pretty sure that for a wound such as his, you were suppose to go to the hospital for just in case it cut a vein.

It wasn’t until five minutes later when Aragorn felt, more than heard, Legolas’s sigh of relief that Aragorn noticed the bloodied piece of glass the blonde no held in between the pair of tweezers. The brunette’s head rolled back as he released a strangled laugh of relief, tears he hadn’t noticed before blurring his vision at the overwhelming relief he felt that the piece of glass was out. “Hold still,” Legolas mumbled and Aragorn snapped his head down to look at Legolas who had blood staining his fingers and was holding a bottle of what he assumed to be that anti-bacterial liquid for cuts, but Aragorn didn’t get hurt often, so he didn’t know what any of that stuff was. The pain that came not a second after the liquid was poured over his foot was not something Aragorn had prepared himself for and he hissed in pain, leg jerking and entire body tensing and if it wasn’t for the strong grip Legolas had on his ankle, he would have kicked the blonde away.

“What,” Aragorn hissed out as he watched Legolas lift the bottle once more and pour a bit more over his foot and his entire body jolted once more, “are you doing?”

“Cleaning the cut,” Legolas answered back like it was the most normal thing in the world and to a certain degree, it probably was, but it hurt. A new gauze came and Legolas dabbed away the access liquid and any remaining blood before reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out a thread and a needle and slowly, the blonde lowered Aragorn’s foot to rest in his lap and the brunette watched as Legolas dipped the needle and thread into a bottle of alcohol to sterilize it before he brought it back to Aragorn’s foot and shot him a small, apologetic look before poking the needle through his flesh. The first poke hurt and as the thread followed after, it hurt even more, but Aragorn gritted his teeth tightly and said nothing, allowing the blonde to continue and vaguely he could hear the ding of the elevator door opening and a familiar gruff voice calling his name, but he dared not open his mouth to respond for he could feel the groan of pain building up in his throat. The kitchen was filled merely with harsh breathing on his part and the soft moans of concentration from Legolas as he worked efficiently and silently.

There was a final tug on the thread before Legolas tore the needle off gently and tied a knot to the thread. The heavy steps coming in the direction of the kitchen made the blonde tense and he looked at Aragorn warily, but Aragorn had his eyes shut tightly, feeling the dull throb from his foot continue on insistently and Legolas glanced to where the shadow loomed now across the kitchen and he quickly jumped to his feet and world around with a look of nonchalance on his face despite his nerves and gazed upon a short man with a long, red beard and hair with a beanie on and a winter coat to top it off. He wore plain denim jeans and had on white socks, his shoes having been apparently removed by the elevator door. The man was holding a bag with two Styrofoam boxes in them and he set it on the floor before marching over to the foreign blonde.

“What did you do to him?” the man roared and Legolas took a small step back, holding his hands up in front of him as if to hold the male back, but the short, strong man continued forward, forcing the nimble blonde to continue his dance backwards. The action only seemed to anger the gruff man more and he lashed a hand out and grasped a slim wrist in a large gloved hand, yanking the blonde closer who released a yelp of surprise. “Why do you have his blood on your hand? Answer me!”

“Gimli!” The strong voice from the man behind them caused Legolas to nearly topple over in relief as his nerves calmed at a rapid pace as he heard Aragorn’s voice echo throughout the room loud and clear. “Let him go,” Aragorn spoke softly, looking from his friend to the blonde who looked ready to collapse, if he had to be honest. Gimli did as instructed, but not without tightening his grip for a brief moment before releasing as if the male had burned him.

“What happened, laddie?” The small man asked as he moved closer to Aragorn and the brunette watched from the corner of his eye as Legolas rubbed his reddening wrist gingerly before the blonde hesitantly made his way over and came to his knees once more to finish the job he had started and Aragorn couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow at this. He had expected the blonde to keep his distance after Gimli’s outburst, but here was the blonde, wrapping a bandage around his foot gently, his eyes focused solely on his task.

“I stepped on some broken glass. He was just bandaging me up,” Aragorn explained and watched as Gimli’s face slowly turned the color of his beard in embarrassment as it seemed to settle in that he had lashed out at the lithe male for no reason. Legolas, though, seemed to be in another world as he finished bandaging Aragorn up and moved to the sink to wash his hands before beginning to pick up the shards of glass and through them away, moving gingerly so as to not hurt himself.

“Who is he?”

“An artist who works for me,” Aragorn responded, tearing his gaze away from Legolas to focus it on Gimli. “How’s Bilbo?”

“Oh, just fine, that Bilbo… He and Thorin seemed to have really hit it off, though they refuse to admit it,” Gimli responded with a low, amused chuckle that reverberated around the room and Aragorn grinned brightly.

“That’s good news. Do you wish to stay? We could talk for a bit more,” Aragorn suggested, but the red head shook his head, crossing thick around across his chest with a short laugh.

“As much as I would enjoy to, I fear I cannot. I am to attend Bilbo’s plan meeting for his next big party. I’ll let you know when the date is as soon as I know,” Gimli said as he walked hurriedly to the door. “I’m late already and those meetings take forever. You know how Bilbo is,” Gimli laughed and Aragorn chuckled and rose from his seat, limping to follow Gimli to the elevator.

“That is quite true. Make sure to let me know when it is.”

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry about that. You better be there though!” Gimli moved quickly after putting on his boots and he stepped into the elevator. “Oh, and send my apologies to your artist over there and tell him to do some work on these walls. You have the most boring house I have laid my eyes upon!” Gimli stated as the doors to the elevator closed and Aragorn released a hearty laugh as he made his way back to the kitchen where Legolas was drying the floors with a bit of toilet paper. The first aid kit was put away and the shards of glass were gone.

“Sorry about that,” Aragorn mumbled as he entered and picked up the bag Gimli had set down to removed the two boxes from inside. “He says he’s sorry. He has a habit of jumping to conclusions at times, but he’s a good person,” Aragorn said, glancing over at Legolas to gauge his reaction and the smile he received had not been what he expected once more and he cocked an eyebrow at this.

“It’s alright. I can see he cares about you like a friend should,” Legolas responded quietly as he tossed the sodden piece of toilet paper away and looking down at Aragorn’s foot. “I’m sorry about before. I shouldn’t have startled you,” Legolas mumbled and Aragorn released a throaty laugh, walking over and grabbing two forks, handing one to Legolas.

“Don’t worry about that. I was lost in thought. It would have been bound to happen.”

“You threw water on your face. Why?” The statement was merely pointing out the obvious, but Aragorn still found himself a bit shocked at the words.

“My thoughts strayed to where they shouldn’t, is all. Do not fret over it,” Aragorn soothed softly as he sat and motioned for Legolas to sit next to him before beginning to eat. Legolas nodded and remained silent, following Aragorn’s example, sitting and beginning to eat the food in silence. Aragorn found himself quite fortunate for a moment, to have a new companion who enjoyed the quiet as much as he did and was as soft spoken as Legolas. It was truly a wonder how the male came to be. There could be no other like Legolas, Aragorn concluded. The male seemed truly to be an original. A oft hum escaped Legolas and Aragorn smiled as watched the blonde eat because he knew the blonde was enjoying the food which was good, in Aragorn’s opinion. He could only imagine how much Legolas had eaten on the streets where it had been clear that was where the blonde had been living before.

“Well, I think it’s time I filled you in on our rules.”

“Our rules?” The questioning look in those sky blue eyes made Aragorn smile and he nodded his head once.

“Yes, our rules. You live here now, after all.”

The smile that appeared on pink lips seemed to warm the cold day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was chapter two! I hope you enjoyed it and hopefully chapter three will be out soon. Thank you for reading and I hope you'll all stick around and continue to read and support me. Thank you! Till next time!


	3. Underneath the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter three! Sorry I didn't post it as quickly as I have the last two, but I re-wrote this chapter quite a few times because I just wasn't happy with how it turned out and I'm still not totally thrilled about it, but it's the best it's turned out so far, so I'm not going to fret over it too much. So, here's chapter three and sorry if some of the characters appear a bit ooc. It all just to help the story progress, though.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> This chapter is unbeta'd. I tried my best, but I'm human OTL

After Aragorn had laid down the rules, he and Legolas had spent the rest of the time eating in a rather amiable silence and Aragorn would find himself on more than one occasion looking over at Legolas to watch him discreetly. The blonde’s hair was dry now, except for the tips and it fell over his shoulders rather nicely. The silvery strands fell down Legolas’s back and the pale blonde matched well with the white shirt. Aragorn’s eyes then shifted over a bit and he noticed the two thin braids on the side of Legolas’s head once more and he looked at them, scrutinizing them and he felt a bit miffed that there didn’t seem to be a hair out of place. The blonde locks were combed back, leaving Legolas’s face bare and Aragorn’s face slid over the smooth skin before grey eyes halted as he noticed something just below the blonde’s ear.

“What’s that?” The confused look the question earned was to be expected and Aragorn moved to elaborate, raising him hand before is brow furrowed as Legolas flinched slightly, moving away just a tad, though noticeably enough. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Aragorn murmured, brow furrowing even more, but as he saw the tense shoulders slowly relaxing, he himself relaxed as well and moved his hand once more, though a bit slower. Making sure Legolas could see what he was doing, so as not to startle the blonde; Aragorn brushed back blonde hair, breath catching at the feel of the silky strands against his own calloused fingers. Letting his index finger brush against the area he was indicating, he pulled his hand back, trying not to let his thoughts stray to how wondrously soft Legolas’s skin was nor how those golden locks felt running through his fingers.

“Oh, this thing right here?” Legolas questioned softly as he moved his hair away to reveal a delicately pointed ear and pointed to the area just behind his ear where the mark was situated and Aragorn nodded rather dumbly, unable to bring himself to do anything else. “It’s a birthmark, shaped like a leaf,” Legolas responded as he let his hair fall to cover it once more like a golden curtain. Closing his Styrofoam box, still half full of food, Legolas shot Aragorn a reassuring smile at the questioning look. “Forgive me. I do not mean to waste food, but I can’t fit anymore in my stomach.”

“No, it’s alright,” Aragorn soothed with a soft smile and he closed his own box, though his own was empty and stood to throw his own out before looking over at Legolas. “Are you going to eat it later or do you want to throw it out?”

“I’ll eat it later, if that’s alright.” Aragorn nodded his consent and picked up the box before placing it in the microwave. Moving back over to Legolas, he checked his phone for the time and jolted in surprise. He remembered it being eleven in the morning when Legolas arrived initially, but now it was already five in the afternoon.

“Um, listen, Legolas, I have to go out tonight to meet with my sister for dinner. Can I trust you to be here when I get back?” Aragorn asked softly and Legolas nodded his head a bit, rising from his spot in his seat. “I’ll write down my number for you to call if you have any questions and I’ll put Gimli’s number down too so that if you can’t reach me, you can reach him, at least. He always answers. Here’s fifty dollars, just in case you feel like going out and buying something, though don’t worry about buying clothe, we’ll do that tomorrow. I should be back by eleven, one at the latest, alright?” Another nod and Aragorn looked at the blonde worriedly who looked like the amount of information he was being given was overwhelming and who could blame the poor guy. It probably was.

“I’ll be fine.”

Aragorn blinked, eyes widening in surprise that Legolas seemed to be able to read him so easily despite the fact that he had tried to mask his concern and he nodded his head a bit before writing down his own cell-phone number and Gimli’s. “You know how to use a phone, right?” An appalled look was all he received in response and he tried to stifle the guilty feeling that rose up inside of him. “Sorry, of course you do. I’ve never been in a situation like this before, forgive me.” A nod was his only response and he sighed, carding his fingers through unruly brown locks as he looked at the blonde. A verbal answer wouldn’t kill the man. “Okay, well I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Alright, be safe.”

Aragorn was already at the elevator with his shoes on when he heard the words and he froze, the elevator doors slowly sliding shut and he just barely managed to catch a glimpse of the concerned look on the blue eyed beauty’s face.

Upon reaching the bottom floor, Aragorn watched as the elevator doors opened, but he remained standing where he was, not moving, seemingly in a trance. He could still see the concerned look before his eyes and he could just stand there in shock, wondering why Legolas would look so afraid after telling Aragorn to be safe. Confused beyond belief with a mind completely out of it, Aragorn jolted as the doorman placed a hand on his shoulder, staring at the man with wide grey eyes, not having noticed the man’s presence before.

“Sir, are you alright?” The doorman questioned, voice gentle and kind as he looked at Aragorn with large eyes that showed only worry and concern for the young man’s well being. Even though Aragorn was twenty six and had moved out from his father’s place, he still felt like a child being taken care of by his father at times and he couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the thought. There were points where he found himself pining for the feel of his father’s hand upon his head, smoothing down ruffled locks, or to see the look of praise upon his father’s face after looking at his report card. He longed for that once more and he made a small note in his mind to call his father eventually, maybe set up a time that they could hang out. They would most likely see each other at Bilbo’s party, but Aragorn would prefer to have seen his father before hand, at the very least, to avoid any possibilities of things being awkward between them. After all, it had been eight years since he had last been home.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Putting on a smile he hoped was reassuring, Aragorn moved out of the elevator after having gently patted the doorman on the shoulder, walking out of the building with a small smile, his feet taking him in the direction of the restaurant he was to be attending with his sister that night. The sky was already falling dark despite the early time and he found himself releasing a sigh of despair since it meant winter was truly coming and Aragorn was by no means excited for the cold that accompanied the season. He would feel much better if the only thing winter brought was snow, but no cold. But, alas, things were never so and he looked up at the sky with a slight frown before looking back to where he was going after nearly crashing into someone.

Upon reaching the restaurant, Aragorn could only stare at the sign for a bit, a groan building up inside his throat and he was just barely managing to hold it back because he forgot how his sister loved expensive dining and Aragorn always felt out of place amongst people who flaunted their money like there wasn’t a chance someone could rob them of it. Entering the restaurant, Aragorn glanced around the area before spotting his darling sister over in a booth at the back, waving a perfectly manicured hand over at him. Moving with deliberately slow strides to clearly show his discomfort at having to meet in such a place, Aragorn slipped into the booth across from his sister with a small sigh.

“You get worse at choosing places each time,” Aragorn muttered, receiving a laugh from Arwen who merely shook her head before handing him the menu.

The night went rather smoothly. They had just gotten their drinks and appetizers and were calmly eating while talking about random things that popped into their heads. Their laughter was constant and Aragorn found himself laughing once more at one of his sister’s stories about her new boyfriend when his phone went off in his pocket. Pulling out the device, he held up his finger, pressing the mobile to his ear after answering the call. “Hello?”

“Um, hey, is it fine if I paint your walls?”

“Yeah, yeah, do whatever you want,” Aragorn laughed before hanging up the phone rather abruptly, not having even really paid attention to whatever the person calling had said. Turning his attention back to his sister, he waved away her questioning stare before leaning forward eagerly, wanting to hear more of her new boyfriend.

Legolas, meanwhile, looked up at the barren walls after having hung up the house phone. He had used the fifty dollars to buy a large spread of buckets of paint and he had called Gimli to bring in some props after getting confirmation from Aragorn that it was fine to paint his place. He had been honestly very shocked, but since he wanted to paint the blank walls anyway, he didn’t question it as much. Picking up the paint brush he had laid down upon the plastic spread he had placed on the floor, he dipped it into the paint before clambering up the ladder he had asked the doorman for and beginning to work, singing softly under his breath.

It was hour later that the elevator doors dinged open and Gimli lumbered into the room, removing his shoes and socks before stepping onto the plastic, discarding his winter coat and beanie next to his shoes before lugging in a large number of tall, fake trees, with roots designed in a way that they looked like they disappeared into the ground.

“Are you sure he’ll like th—” Gimli set one of the trees down, he eyes widening as he looked around the place and he felt like he had entered into another world. Three of the four walls were decorated to look like a large forest that could go on forever, the amount of detail placed into it making it truly seem wondrous. Walking to one of the walls, Gimli reached his hand out as if to touch, but a delicate hand stopped him and his gaze snapped over to the blonde male that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Paint was splattered all over the male’s clothes and Gimli realized that the clothes were not the one he had seen the male wearing earlier when he was here to deliver Aragorn’s food, but they were worn down clothe that seemed to have been worn for years without having been removed except for a fairly hard scrubbing.

“Don’t touch it yet. The paint still has to dry and then I have to add the final coat so that it won’t chip,” Legolas cautioned as he released Gimli’s wrist slowly and the short man noticed with a hidden sort of amusement that the lithe male’s fingers had just barely managed to wrapped around his thick wrist and he laughed lowly. Legolas was a stick compared to himself, though he could tell from the way the blonde moved, he had a hidden sort of power within him, the muscles in his body moving as if to some complicated dance and Gimli could only watch, astounded as Legolas moved the fake trees into the room before picking up a paint brush and climbing up a ladder to continue his work on the fourth wall. “Can you finish bringing the rest of the stuff in, please?” Legolas asked softly, glancing back at Gimli, watching the red head bob in response before the strong man lumbered back to the elevator to pull in the rest of the supplies.

Gimli pulled everything into the apartment, wondering if this was really okay, but he himself knew Aragorn would love it, although the man would probably be extremely shocked at first. Sending the elevator back down so that the doorman could shove the rest of the fake trees in and send it back up, Gimli turned his attention back to Legolas who was nimbly moving the brush along the walls, shifting his feet on the ladder to make it sway from side to side so that his arm would be able to reach the highest corners. Watching the brush as it moved, Gimli’s eyes slowly moved upward and his breath caught as he stared at the ceiling. There were small lights hung up amongst a dark blue background, the lights scattered around in what seemed to be a calculated array, but also looked like they had just been thrown up there. Glitter was also noticeable amongst the dark blue if Gimli looked closely and he nearly jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Do you like it?” Legolas asked, his voice soft and smooth like water going down a stream on a clear spring day. His voice, Gimli noted, seemed to be unique. It was calm and reserved and had a lilting to it that made it seem almost like a chorus of angels and he nodded his head with a low chuckle as he received a smile in response.

“Yeah, I do. Did you finish over there?”

A soft hum was his response as Legolas moved and got a bucket of a clear liquid and dipped his freshly cleaned brush in before moving to the walls where the paint had already dried and climbing up the ladder once more as he began applying the liquid in long liberal strokes.

“You really have a talent for this,” Gimli mused as the elevator dinged and he moved to it as the doors opened, lugging in the rest of the trees and Legolas laughed softly, the sound ringing gently throughout the room like the chiming of bells.

“It’s one of my hobbies,” Legolas responded as he moved around the living room quickly, spreading the clear liquid around before finally finishing after moving about for at least half an hour and Gimli cocked an eyebrow, only thinking about how the male had been practically flying throughout the room with a care in the world, moving the ladder like there wasn’t a chance it could tip over and fall and potentially kill him. “Alright, Aragorn shouldn’t be back for another two hours, so let’s get the grass laid out and then the trees situated. Hopefully he’ll like it.”

“Is this your way of thanking him?”

“Yeah…” Legolas smiled a bit before taking the rolled up grass carpets and laying them down across the floor with the help of the short man that came to help him out. The rest of the time was spent in silence as they moved, the only sounds really being their breathing and the occasional grunt from Gimli as moved the trees to where Legolas would indicate and tossed fake, though shockingly realistic, leaves across the fake forest floor before he and Legolas cleaned everything up.

Aragorn continued to spend time with his sister, now feeling a little bit uneasy at the news that was just delivered to him. “Ah, you’re engaged?” A nod was received in response and Aragorn dipped his spoon into his chocolate mousse. “Congratulations, then.”

“Thanks, Aragorn. I wasn’t sure whether to tell you or not, honestly. You’re so anti-romance that I just didn’t know what to do with breaking the news to you. I’m glad you’re taking it well,” Arwen spoke with a kind smile upon her lips and Aragorn could only nod before motioning for the waiter to come over and ordering a white chocolate raspberry mousse to go, the waiter nodding and leaving to go let the chef know and Aragorn checked his phone briefly, blinking as he saw a missed call from Gimli. He considered calling back, but Arwen’s voice brought him back to the current situation and he decided against it, turning his attention back to her. “You aren’t mad, are you?”

“No, my dear Arwen,” Aragorn whispered, giving the smallest of shakes of his head in response, though he felt like strangling someone because he didn’t want his sister to get hurt. Arwen meant a lot to him. She was the only one other than himself to know that he was Strider, she was the only one who listened to his constant complains and worries, she was the only one Aragorn felt the need to protect to valiantly because she was always there for him and he didn’t want to see her hurt. However, as he gazed at the ring on his finger, he knew that he had no choice but to let her do as she pleased because she wasn’t a little girl anymore—she was older than him even and yet he still felt like he needed to protect her. “I hope love works out for you,” Aragorn finally said quietly, giving the beautiful female before him a small, gentle smile before averting his gaze and eating his chocolate mousse for the sole fact of having something to do, though he had lost his appetite already.

“Thank you.”

No more words were exchanged as the waiter returned with the other mousse Aragorn ordered and he whispered a low thanks before finishing his own mousse and rising from his seat, laying down some money and bidding his sister good night before he walked out of the restaurant, his mind in a somewhat fog.

“Aragorn!”

The cry made Aragorn turn around only to see his sister running after him, her heels clacking against the cement and grey eyes hardened while he gazed at her impassively, though he cocked an eyebrow to indicate that he was listening, although all he wanted to do was go home, to see Legolas who he hoped would still be there and that look of concern flashed through his mind and suddenly he felt that very emotion go through him, though he didn’t act upon it, remaining still as Arwen reached him at last. “Do you need money for cab fare again?”

“No, it’s not that! It’s just…he’s coming to pick me up. I was wondering if you’d like to meet him,” Arwen mumbled, voice trailing off, her cheeks dusting a light pink, expression hopeful and Aragorn felt bad for what he knew his answer would be, but he just couldn’t deal with his sister’s love right now after having just been dropped the bombshell that she was getting married in four months. It was hard to finally admit that the people in your life were all grown up and Aragorn mused in some part of his mind that he probably looked more tired than he had ever appeared before, but he didn’t have the mind to think of that.

“No thanks, I have to finish my chapter for tomorrow. Faramir is stopping by to pick it up. Maybe next time,” Aragorn responded before turning on his heel to avoid looking at the clearly disappointed look on his beloved sister’s face as he marched off in the direction of his home. He couldn’t believe this. His sister was getting married. That wasn’t supposed to happen. When they had been kids, they had both agreed that they would get married only after both of them had found love. Aragorn had been so convinced that the promise they made to each other would last until death that he had thrown the worry of his sister getting married out the window. After all, Arwen was normally a woman of her word.

“You know, just because you don’t believe in love doesn’t mean others don’t!”

Those words halted his steps and Aragorn felt his entire body begin to tremble ever so slightly from the amount of emotions building up inside of him and he felt the hole in his heart grow even larger as if the words dug an even bigger hole into his very soul.

“My heart is to give to whom I will! You cannot stop me!”

“And I have no intention of doing so,” Aragorn bit back, casting a look over his shoulder to see his sister clinging to a man who was hugging her tightly while giving him a look of distaste and Aragorn’s grey orbs turned to steel as he looked away without another word, marching off. He just wanted to be home, to picture the stars in his mind, to imagine the winds swaying the tree tops and to feel the blades of grass beneath his feet. How he longed for such things…

The walk home for him was stiff and silent as he trudged through the swarming streets with a sour expression decorating his face and he found himself constantly releasing sighs or groans of annoyance at the events of that dinner. It wasn’t supposed to end like that and yet it did and Aragorn couldn’t find himself to be anything other than annoyed at it. How could that have happened? Walking into his building, Aragorn slowed finally, calming himself down. If he was to finish the chapter he had to write by tomorrow, then he had to be calm for it. As he stepped into the elevator, though, Aragorn glanced at the door man and his brow furrowed in confusion at the secretive smile that the man was giving him.

Gripping the plastic cup that contained the dessert he had requested due to the sudden image of Legolas’s face appearing behind his eyelids, Aragorn glanced down at it and slowly felt himself begin to calm down, his mind bringing up the sound of the blonde’s voice as he had been singing in the bath, the sweet melody ringing through his ears and as the elevator doors opened, Aragorn didn’t even spare a glance inside his barren apartment, eyes closed as he hummed softly to the song he had heard earlier in the day while removing is shoes and socks. The instant his bare feet touched the ground, though, his eyes snapped open and he looked down.

No wooden floor. That was his first observation and his eyes slowly rose to take a look around and he wondered momentarily if he had entered Narnia because the entire place looked like a forest that stretched out for miles and he moved further inside slowly, half expecting to find himself just hallucinating and for the vision before him to clear and be left looking at his plain penthouse. But, no, the trees stayed where they were the grass beneath his feet still there and he ran his fingers along one of the trees, almost shocked at the feeling of the rough bark. As someone who was accustomed to the city life, nature was breathtaking even when it was just the simplest things and he looked up to reach for one of the leaves on the trees before his breath caught in his throat. Above was a clear night sky and clear bright stars glimmered across the spread of deep blue. However, that hadn’t been what had stolen his breath.

Golden strands fell down one of the branches, lithe body relaxing against the bark as crystal blue eyes gazed up at the night sky with a certain calm glint that it made Aragorn himself calm down.

“He did a fine job, didn’t he?” A gruff voice from behind asked and he whirled to see Gimli standing there in clothes smeared with paint, but a happy smile present on his lips, beard freshly groomed and braided along with his hair and Aragorn blinked in surprise.

“He did all of this?”

“He said you liked nature and after getting your permission, he decided to decorate this place. It’s amazing how quickly he works. I’ve never seen anything like it. How come none of us knew you liked nature so much?” The disgruntled look on Gimli’s face almost made Aragorn want to laugh, but he was far too shocked to do so.

“I…it was just something that I enjoyed privately, I suppose. I made sure to keep it quiet since I don’t ever even have time to go out and enjoy it,” Aragorn responded and he looked up at where Legolas had been only to jolt in surprise when he saw the male was no longer there.

“Do you like it?”

The tall male whirled around and molten grey met startling blue and a curt nod was the only response needed for a smile to appear on delicate pink lips. “It puts my mind at ease. Thank you,” Aragorn whispered, moving his arm slower than he normally would, but only because he remembered Legolas’s earlier reaction to fast motions, and placed his hand on a slim shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze, feeling a small sense of surprise at the feel of muscle despite the male’s slim appearance.

“I’m glad it has done so. It’s served It has purpose well, then.”

“Its purpose was to put my mind at ease?”

“You seemed far too stressed the last few times I saw you. I merely wished to take away your stress in some shape or form, but I could not do much.”

No more words needed to be exchanged. Despite the somewhat creepy nature most people would consider those words to hold, Aragorn merely felt warm inside and he sat down on the grass, motioning for his blonde artist and his friend to sit down next to him and listened to Gimli’s soft thud against the ground as he sat on the grass and the barely audible scuffle of Legolas sitting down as well. Scavenging his mind, he remembered he once saw Legolas and had thought nothing of the poor male and he felt a wave of guilt as he remembered that Legolas had been staring directly at him with a gentle smile on his lips and had waved his hand at him as if in greeting, but Aragorn had merely turned his head away.

Yet, despite this, Legolas was seated next to him, curled up on his side, sound asleep and when he heard a soft snore from his other side, Aragorn noted with a small sense of amusement that Gimli was also asleep and Aragorn laid down, crossing his arms behind his head as he gazed up at the stars and if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was his ceiling, Aragorn would have sworn he saw a shooting star. Regardless of the fact that it was of false make, Aragorn found himself closing his eyes and relaxing, an image of Legolas’s face appearing behind his eyelids and he found himself drifting off to sleep with a smile on his lips underneath the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed chapter three. Sorry if it was bad. For those of you wondering becaus eI'm horrible at descriptions (sorry), the forest room design is basically like if you picture any forest from Lord of the Rings at night indoors. That's pretty much it ^^;; I hope you'll all stay with me till the end! Until next time, then!
> 
> P.S.  
> If anyone has an idea of who Arwen's husband should be, please feel free to suggest it because I stupidly came up with her getting married, but I didn't come up with who and I don't know whether to just make an original character for it or not, so suggestions will be greatly appreciated!


	4. With the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Here's chapter four! I actually kind of like this chapter, though it's a bit short and I was going to add more, but I liked the feel of how it ended, so I chose not to.
> 
> Also, I've gotten some suggestions on who Arwen's fiance should be and Eomer was one and so I just wanted to get your guys' opinion on that.
> 
> Also, if anyone has any ideas as to who Thranduil remarried to should be, feel free to suggest! I've gotten the suggestion of Tauriel and my friend suggested Elrond, so you guys let me know who you think it should be, alright?
> 
> Please help me out! Well, without further ado, chapter four!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> Once again, this is unbeta'd. I tried, I seriously did. orz

A week had passed. _A week!_ It had only been a week and yet Aragorn and Legolas had set up a routine so perfectly synchronized that is would seem as if they had been living together for years.

Aragorn would wake up first and he would stay in bed, merely sitting up, grabbing his laptop and beginning to write more for his new book. After about an hour, Aragorn would then lean over and wake Legolas up with just a light pat on a clothed shoulder and the blonde male would awaken immediately and go to wash up. Aragorn always went afterwards unless they had to go somewhere, mainly because he would want to finish what he was writing before washing up. After that, they would eat breakfast which always changed, depending on what Gimli brought them. Aragorn would leave then at about seven in the morning and head to Starbucks and stay there till twelve. When he returned, the penthouse would be completely clean, top to bottom, and Legolas would be sitting upon a branch of one of the many fake, yet strong, trees, reading Aragorn’s new chapter so as to be able to draw whatever Aragorn was attempting to describe.

Most of their time together during the day was spent in silence and they managed to live together rather nicely. Aragorn found out Legolas enjoyed the colors green, blue, silver, and grey. He knew the reasons why for each color except grey because Legolas refused to tell him. The brunette had also managed to learn that Legolas’s father had taught the male everything he knew about drawing, thought he lessons had been when the blonde had been not more than five and he had only recently just started drawing again after all that time.

The blonde was a rather mysterious character, in Aragorn’s own opinion, but there was an openness to him that seemed to say “ask me anything, I will answer with the truth”. Gimli himself agreed that Legolas was an honest fellow and never told a lie, so far. As long as you asked, Legolas would either answer with the truth or say he would prefer not to speak of it at that very moment and Aragorn had learned to accept that. He never dared press Legolas for answers for the blonde answered the important stuff honestly enough, so that was all that mattered to him.

It was the same routine this day, though now it was night and they were in the living room once more, a warm fire glowing in the corner, the glow just barely managing to peer through the trees enough to give them both enough light to look at things. Legolas sat up in his branch, finishing the drawing for what Aragorn was trying to describe so that Aragorn could possibly do a better job with detailing the setting or the people. Aragorn sat at the trunk of that tree, head tilted back as he looked up at Legolas who was so intent on focusing on his work that he didn’t even notice the fact that the grey eyed male was openly staring at him.

“You know, I worry that the branch is going to break some day,” Aragorn whispered, breaking the comfortable silence and he felt a small shiver run down his spine as Legolas laughed a beautiful, light laugh that made his head spin and his own smile appear on his lips.

“Gimli sat up here and the branch didn’t crack under all that muscle. I think we’re okay,” Legolas giggled— _giggled—_ and Aragorn couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Moving effortlessly, the blonde rose from his spot, holding onto a branch above him, either to steady himself or to reassure Aragorn that he was being careful the brunette didn’t know, before slowly slipping off the branch in a gentle movement of pale limbs before he landed on the grass softly next to Aragorn. Kneeling next to the brunette, Legolas handed the sketch pad to the male with a small, cautious glance as if concerned over what Aragorn would think of it, but at the nod of approval and the bright smile upon the man’s lips, he eased a bit, allowing his own smile to slip on.

“You manage to surprise me every time with how good your artwork is,” Aragorn mused as he gazed upon the deserted village described in his story. Legolas was the only other person to know that Aragorn was Strider and it was in their contract that the blonde wasn’t to breathe a word of it to anyone or Aragorn would be forced to take him to court.

“I am pleased to hear such kind words coming from you. It brings me great joy to know my work is appreciated,” was the response that slipped from satin lips and Aragorn spared a glance at the male next to him, shooting a comforting smile before closing the sketch pad and setting it aside.

“I will gaze at it tomorrow as I type the description for it. Thank you, once again.” A mere nod was all he got in response and he looked over at the beautiful male beside him to see that Legolas had his legs drawn up to his chest and there was a small crease between his brows as he frowned as if pondering something. Reaching over, Aragorn gently pressed his index finger between perfect eyebrows, a smile tugging at his lips as he saw the line disappear and grey met blue for a brief moment before Aragorn pulled back. “What troubles you?”

“A lady called bearing a message she wished for me to relay to you, though I was hesitant to do so due to the contents of the message,” Legolas began, slowly moving his arm, fingers dipping into the pocket of his new gym shorts that Aragorn had bought for him, retrieving a small sheet of white paper which he handed over gently with an apologetic look. “Forgive me, I should have relayed it to you sooner, but you returned in high spirits and I feared this would have crushed your mood.”

Rough fingers brushed lightly against smooth skin as Aragorn took the slip of paper, ignoring the small spark that shot through his arm at the touch and how his own cheeks warmed slightly. Opening the folded paper, Aragorn let his eyes scan over the message, grateful for Legolas’s neat hand-writing for the light from the fire was weak and had the blonde’s writing been messy, Aragorn feared he wouldn’t have been able to read it.

_Tell Aragorn that he may come to the wedding if he pleases, but if he intends to be rude and belittle my marriage then he can go and jump off a cliff for all I care. Tell him that I pity him for having the inability to see a brighter side of the world and for living in a world of black and white with such strong opinions. Make sure to point out that he has many faults, too. Also, stress the fact that if he so much as speaks cruelly to my fiancé, he will have me to answer to. Make sure he knows that father wants to meet in a month for dinner on the 24 th of December and that my fiancé will be there and that I will be watching him closely. Father says he can’t miss it, so make sure he doesn’t have any plans. By the way, who are you?_

The note was written word for word, clearly and precisely and Aragorn felt a lump rise in his throat as emotions coursed through him and he clenched the note tightly in a trembling hand as he gritted his teeth. He had never dreamed there would be a day when his sister spat such cold words to him and he found himself thinking with disgusted amusement that a man had torn such a rift between himself and his sister in less than a few seconds when their bond had taken many years to develop to how it had been days before.

“Forgive me.” The words were uttered so quietly that had it not been for the silence in the room, they would have been but a mere exhalation of air, the syllables not being able to form even. A pale hand gently grasped his and Aragorn looked down, admiring the contrast of their skin tones before he felt the fingers lightly press into the side of his hand, easing it open before gently plucking the note away and setting it to the side. Before he could think of his actions, Aragorn found himself twisting his hand, grasping a delicate one in his own before tugging the owner of the hand close and wrapping his arms around the lithe body tightly, resting his chin upon soft golden locks. He ignored the stiffening of the male’s body and the small yelp of surprise along with the slight squirming of the male.

“There is nothing to forgive.” Aragorn tightened his embrace slightly, pressing his nose into the silver gold that rested upon the blue eyed male’s head and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, feeling the familiar sting of tears at the back of his eyes. “You are a great artist, Legolas, and an even better friend. Please,” Aragorn opened his eyes and looked down at the blonde, vision blurry from unshed tears and he felt one slip out, but a slender finger caught it, gently wiping it away as the soft fingertips grazed against the rough stubble of a beard, “let me hold you for right now.”

There were no more words spoken as Legolas shifted so that his legs were folded to the side and so that his head rested on a strong shoulder, arms wrapped around a firm abdomen as he was held close by Aragorn whose chin rested atop his head as he silently cried, body trembling slightly with the force of suppressing the sobs that threatened to erupt past his lips and they stayed in that position until Aragorn’s sobs died away, replaced by soft hiccups and the occasional sniffle. Legolas shifted their positions then, moving away from Aragorn and sitting back before pulling Aragorn gently to lie down, letting the brunettes head rest on his lap as he toyed with wavy brown locks.

“Rest now, Aragorn, for today has ended as emotionally trying and you need the sleep. Do not cry any longer over things that will fix themselves, for it is not your fault,” Legolas whispered softly and Aragorn looked up at the blonde with glassy, confused eyes, brow furrowed.

“How do you know it is not my fault?”

“If that lady knows you and knows of your opinion on whatever it was you guys got into a fight over, it is not your fault for she was aware of them and has no right to pin them against you; therefore, it cannot be your fault. I might not know what happened between you to, but I understand logic and logic says that you are not in the wrong here, Aragorn.”

A smile stretched itself lazily upon chapped lips of the author and he let his eyes close. “You are indeed a good friend, Legolas. I do not know what I would have done had you not been here,” Aragorn murmured as he allowed Legolas’s long fingers to card through the mess of brown atop his head. There was silence once more before Aragorn slowly spoke up after a moment of hesitance. “Will you sing for me?” There was a pregnant silence and Aragorn slowly opened his eyes, looking up at the blonde who was looking up at the makeshift sky before a beautiful melody began to be hummed as slender fingers continued carding through the brown locks gently, disentangling knots from it.

“ _With the wind, the tree tops sway. With the sun…comes the day. Ray by ray…fall upon…the ground…every morn’. Light shines down on us. The sun has come up. The warmth fills me up and gives me hope. Hope that everything will be better. Hope that things will get better. And the warmth fills me up and I pass it on. Ray by ray fall upon…us.”_

The song is sweet yet it held a small sense of melancholy mixed with the hope of a new day, a fresh start and Aragorn find a small tear escaping because the song is so perfect for how he felt at that moment and he leaned into Legolas’s touch, eyes closing, not noticing the sole tear that escaped the blonde’s eye as the brunette slowly slipped into sleep, the melody resonating in his mind and warming his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was chapter four. I hope you enjoyed it and please stay tuned for chapter five! Also, please help me out. Suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Thank you, once again. Until next time!


	5. Everything is Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's chapter five! Woo! Okay, I stayed up until two in the morning to write this and then finished revising it just now, so I hope you enjoy it XD
> 
> Um, so as you all probably know, I've been pondering what to do with some of the pairings with Thranduil and Arwen. I have decided that Arwen will be with Eomer because out of the two candidates (Haldir and Eomer), Eomer is the one I can write better looking down on Aragorn compared to Haldir who is such a noble person in the books and movies, that I can't bring myself to write him the way I imagined Arwen's fiance. I blame it on my fascination with elves!
> 
> For Thranduil, I have many candidates, one which I ruled out because one of you guys (you know who you are /wink wink ) helped me come up with his role. So, the candidates for Thranduil are Bard, Galadriel, and Elrond. Originally a human Smaug was one of the options, but that was the character whose role is now determined as something else due to a suggestion from one you! I'll greatly accept any help offered for writing human Smaug because I have no clue how to, but I like the idea of having him in this story and I like the role. Um, so anyway, if you guys could just comment below who you think should be with Thranduil out of the three options, I would most greatly appreciate the help!
> 
> Disclaimer: All rights to respective owners. I own nothing.
> 
> P.S.  
> Unbeta'd, again. I'm sorry!~

The next morning, upon waking up, Aragorn found himself spending a good deal of time merely staring up at Legolas’s asleep face and he felt bad because the position the blonde had at last drifted off in looked nothing less than uncomfortable. Reaching up a hand, Aragorn tapped Legolas’s shoulder lightly, watching as blue eyes fluttered open before locking with his own and he felt his cheeks heat up slightly as they stared at him, still cloudy with sleep before the blonde smiled down at his slightly.

“Did you sleep well?” Legolas questioned softly and Aragorn found he rather liked hearing Legolas’s voice in the morning. Even though he enjoyed the silence, the male’s warm voice felt welcome too and he nodded his head a bit before slowly pushing himself to sit up, stretching his muscles and he watched as Legolas slowly rose from his spot on the ground, clutching onto the trunk of the fake tree they had dozed off against and he was on his feet in seconds, looking at the artist in concern. “Do not worry, Aragorn. My legs are merely asleep,” Legolas assured as he slowly pulled himself up onto the branch, swinging his body up onto it before shifting into a comfortable position as he started to massage his legs in an attempt to get some feeling back into them.

“Sorry,” was the sheepish response that left Aragorn’s lips as he recalled the position they had been in not mere moments ago. “I’m going to finish up my chapter, alright? You can clean up first,” Aragorn said, giving the blonde a small smile which was returned before he went and got his laptop before returning to the same tree from before and sitting down, Legolas having left to go wash up. Picking up Legolas’s sketch pad, he flipped open to the page where Legolas had drawn the scenery for the chapter. Gazing at the smooth pencil marks over the page, Aragorn could only stare at it for a bit in awe, drinking it in before he set about on writing the chapter.

He had published another book, not two days ago, the first in a trilogy and he was rather proud of it. He couldn’t believe how unbelievably fast he had written it. Normally writing, despite his love for it, always took forever for him to do, preferring to waste his time looking at his fire place or staring at the city from the balcony, dreaming of a day when he’d finally decide on a vacation to be able to go out into nature for a bit and escape the stifling city walls.

The book was called _Alley from an Angel_. His editor, Faramir, had thought he had written the title wrong at first, but after reading what the book was about, he understood the title. The book was about an angel who created an entire city and watched over it like a guardian, though he blended in with humans. He couldn’t die, so he roamed around humans, changing his appearance every time after faking his death after the life span of a human passed. The angel, though, would see many sins around in his city, so he made an alley that looked like every other alley, but this one captured sinners and devoured them before shooting them out the city to go somewhere else and would leave them with no memory of the city whatsoever.

The sales of the book were amazing, surpassing even those of _The March to War_ , which was saying quite a bit and the book had only been out for two complete days. The scenery was made completely by Legolas, the city, the people, the angel itself were all made by Legolas upon Aragorn’s request. He wanted the book to be a collaboration between them as an official sign of their new camaraderie and Legolas had humbly accepted after a bit of protest. Aragorn assumed that the stern glare he had fixed Legolas with was what lead the blonde to finally submit and agree to come up with the appearance for all the characters and the scenery. They did the research together also, Legolas wearing the clothes he had met Aragorn in and returning to the alleys for a night to gather information that was the most recent compared to his memories.

That had been one of the loneliest nights the brunette had ever spent and he only realized that night how attached he had become to the blonde’s silent yet reassuring presence. Typing away on his computer, Aragorn smiled, unable to help it despite the nature of the part he was currently writing. He already had more than two hundred thousand words down and he knew he had Legolas to thank for that. The routine they had set up was perfect and Aragorn felt so inspired lately as if his muse had walked back into his life.

The ding of the elevator door stopped Aragorn from his writing and he glanced at his work, reading the last few paragraphs over before deeming it a good enough place to stop the chapter, keeping it suspenseful. Saving the document, Aragorn closed his laptop before heading over to the side to set it to charge before he moved towards the elevator, greeting Gimli with a warm grin.

“Hey,” Aragorn called and the short man raised his head, shooting him a grin before finishing removing his shoes and stepping further into the penthouse, removing his beanie and shaking it free of freshly fallen snow. “What have you brought for breakfast today? Have you any news to deliver?” Aragorn questioned as he led the way to the kitchen, taking a seat.

“What? No coffee?” Gimli joked and Aragorn laughed, shaking his head.

“Legolas is still upstairs washing up, so you’ll have to wait for it. He’s the one that knows how to make it just right,” Aragorn laughed before he paused and he looked over at the clock on the stove, slowly rising from his seat. “He’s normally out by now, actually.” Nothing else was said as Aragorn hurriedly made his way to the stairs, taking them two at a time while Gimli hurried after him, climbing up the steps with heavy footfalls, moving as fast as a man of his stature could. “Legolas, speak to me! Are you alright?” Aragorn called as he neared the bathroom. There was no response and Aragorn knocked on the door, pressing his ear to it in hopes of getting some response. Still, there was none. “Legolas, we’re coming in,” Aragorn called as he slowly pressed the door open and he and Gimli both peered inside to see Legolas sitting on the tiles, his body wrapped in a fluffy white towel, only his legs in the tub and his posture was rather stiff.

“Boy, are you alright?” Gimli asked as he pushed past Aragorn, completely forgetting of where the tub was situated when you walked in and falling into the tub with an undignified cry. Water splashed up onto the sides, soaking Aragorn’s legs and drenching Legolas who jumped, startled and looked at the water with wide eyes as if it had the answers for the splash which it technically did. Gimli resurfaced, spluttering and coughing, moving the edge and flailing for Aragorn to help him out to which Aragorn did his best to. Gimli managed to lug himself out of the water and waved away any extra help Aragorn offered him and in the end, the brunette left the short man there as asked to, moving to the blonde who was the reason of them being there.

“Did something happen, Legolas?”

The blonde jerked at the sudden presence and he looked at Aragorn in utter surprise, something the brunette found rather odd since the blue eyed male was normally very good at sensing his presence. Gazing into normally clear pools of blue, Aragorn found his brow furrowing as he noticed the expression on the blonde’s face and it took him a bit before he identified it as pain and he quickly fell to his knees next to blonde, questioning him as to what had happened.

“My legs were apparently not awake enough and I ended tripping when I went to get in the water and,” Legolas paused, drawing in a sharp breath before continuing, “I fell and I twisted my food and knocked my side against the edge right here.” Cerulean orbs looked at him with an expression so full of pain that Aragorn wanted nothing more than to sweep the male into his arms and hug him tightly, but reminding himself of the state of undress that Legolas was in, he refrained from doing so.

“Do you think you can walk?” Aragorn questioned softly as he wrapped an arm around Legolas’s shoulder gently in an attempt to show the male that he was there for him. A small shake of his head was his response and Aragorn winced slightly at the whimper of pain that escaped Legolas as Aragorn tried to pull the male closer to pick him up. Finally managing to pick up the surprisingly light blonde, the author held the quivering male closely, noting how Legolas wrapped the towel a tad tighter around himself and whether it was because he was embarrassed or cold was beyond Aragorn, but either way, he knew he had to get the blonde dressed. “How do you feel?”

“In pain,” was the blunt reply and Aragorn couldn’t help but snort in amusement, motioning with an inclination of his head for Gimli to follow. “I think I broke a few ribs,” Legolas wheezed, fingers gripping the towel tighter, his breathing coming in shallow pants and Aragorn hurried to his—well, more like their—room, setting the blonde on the bed before merely getting the blonde a large long sleeved black t-shirt that was his and a pair of grey briefs. He didn’t dare get the blonde a pair of pants after he looked at slim leg, the pale skin colored purple and the ankle was red and swollen. He refused to put his artist into more pain.

“Gimli, come here for your clothes,” Aragorn spoke as he got a hair brush and handed it to Legolas before he retrieved Gimli’s spare change of clothe in his house, handing it to the soaked man who looked like a large cat that had just gotten splashed by some car that drove in a puddle. A grunt was the form of thanks he got and Aragorn sighed softly before he moved to fix his hair, trying to straighten the unruly locks a bit. “We’re going to have to go to the hospital, Legolas. I hope you understand that,” the brunette whispered and he could feel Legolas tense despite the amount of space between them. “Do not worry. I won’t leave your side at all, except for when they do x-rays.”

“Must I?”

“If you believe your bones are broken and you’re having trouble breathing, then yes, you must. Your ribs could have pierced your lungs, Legolas. I don’t want to chance you dying.” The words were spoken with utter sincerity that it left the blonde speechless and he simply nodded his head, regardless of whether Aragorn could see him or not and changed gingerly into the large shirt and briefs. He didn’t dare move any more, his lungs already straining for air, but the knowledge of the immense pain that accompanied breathing properly kept him from doing so. “Come here,” came the voice from beside him and pained azure orbs met warm grey and Legolas shifted, wrapping his arms around the brunette’s neck as he was lifted into strong arms seemingly effortlessly.

“Forgive me…”

“There is nothing to forgive, Legolas. You have done nothing wrong. Gimli, come on. We make for the hospital,” Aragorn called and a strong shout of ‘coming’ was heard from downstairs and Aragorn eased his way down the stairs with the slim male in his arms, feet moving as quickly as he could without tripping. “Just keep breathing, okay? Gimli, hurry up!”

The brunette moved quickly to the elevator, haphazardly stepping into his shoes as Gimli came lumbering through the forest, the bag of food grasped tightly in his hand. “Is the lad alright? Are you alright?” Gimli looked at the blonde cradled gently in strong arms and he knew the answer immediately and the short man held his arms out. “You’ll trip if you carry him with your shoes on like that,” the small man stated as he took the blonde from the brunette, Legolas’s finger immediately gripping gently the ginger locks of the long beard.

Aragorn moved hurriedly, slipping his boots on correctly before patting his pockets to make sure his wallet and phone were in it. Scooping the blonde back into his arms, he tapped the button for the elevator as Gimli pulled on his own boots and pulled his winter coat tightly around himself after he placed his beanie on his head. Aragorn had always wondered how it was that the male got cold so easily when it was warmer in cities than anywhere else during the winter. The doors for the elevator opened and they both stepped inside, Gimli pressing the button for the lobby.

A strangled gasp of pain made grey eyes flick down with a look of utter concern and the weak smile upon pink lips reassured him slightly as Legolas merely whispered that he moved and pressed his ribs a bit on accident.

After finally exiting the building, all three piled into a cab, Legolas still cradled in Aragorn’s arms as the brunette urged the taxi driver to head to the hospital, the blonde beauty in his arms wheezing as he struggled to get enough air in his lungs to keep his body running. Panic filled him like never before, the mere thought of losing the blonde enough to make his throat close up and his entire body tremble with suppressed emotions. Never had he thought that one could become so used to a presence that just the thought of losing it would feel like a part of you had been ripped away.

“He’s shivering,” the gruff voice from the male next to him was what jolted Aragorn out of his thoughts and he looked down at Legolas and sure enough, there he was, trembling all over and who could blame the poor male? His smooth, long legs were completely bare along with his feet and the shirt he was wearing was so large it hung of his shoulders, pathetically attempting to stay clinging onto the slim frame. Muttering a soft curse for not having thought of grabbing the blonde a coat, Aragorn pulled Legolas closer gingerly, being mindful of the probably broken ribs the male had and he glanced at the bruise that had so nicely developed itself on Legolas’s left calf and the swollen ankle.

“Are you cold, Legolas?”

“I’ll be fine,” was the choked out response as the blonde continued his fast shallow breaths to keep as much oxygen in his body as possible without his lungs expanding too much to cause another shock wave of pain.

“Do you think your ankle is broken?” Aragorn finally asked, reaching his hand out to run calloused fingers over the swollen area and winced when Legolas flinched at the touch, though not badly. A soft shake of his head was his response and Aragorn nodded his head a bit before asking the cab driver if he could go any faster to which the male, thankfully, nodded and started speeding up, the hospital being not too far off. “You’re going to be alright,” Aragorn whispered as he laid his chin atop of silky golden locks, looking over at Gimli who wore an equally concerned expression on his face.

The ride was finally over with and Aragorn climbed out of the taxi, trying to ignore the soft whimpers that slipped past plush pink lips as he jostled the blonde around on accident while exiting the yellow car. Gimli paid the driver as Aragorn was already making his way to the hospital entrance, taking long strides on powerful legs. His booted feet hit the tiles of the hospital floor and filled him with no small sense of relief as the sound served as a confirmation that they were indeed there and that Legolas would be taken care of soon.

Time seemed to tick my slowly as Aragorn sat in the waiting room, bouncing his leg in an attempt to get rid of the jitters that threatened to overpower him. He cast another glance at the clock on the wall and almost released a scream of pure frustration as he saw the time. They had been in the hospital for nearly three hours and Aragorn swore he was about to lose it. Luckily for him, Gimli returned at that moment, swinging three bags with the familiar logo of Subway while holding three drinks in his hands as well. Their breakfast had been long since eaten and Legolas’s had been thrown out because it had gotten far too cold for it to be even worth eating.

“They still haven’t come out yet?”

Aragorn grunted in response, taking the bag and drink offered to him and holding it, unable to eat at moment and it appeared for once that Gimli couldn’t either. It was at that moment that a doctor walked over to the duo looking at them with a serious expression, though there were the barest traces of a smile on his face. They both stood, Aragorn’s face looking tired and concern like the life had been drained out of him. Gimli, on the other hand, looked about to blow his lid because the silence was going on for far too long.

“He’s alright.”

Those words alone were enough to make Aragorn fall back into his seat, body slumping with relief as a tired smile graced his lips, eyes closing for a brief moment as he relished in the feeling of his tense muscles loosening at the news.

“He broke four ribs, though, but we managed to straighten them out and they should heal properly. His ankle was only sprained, thankfully, and we bandaged it lightly, so that he won’t move it as much. Prevent him from walking on for at least a few hours and then the pain should be gone enough for him to be able to walk on it once more. Keep it bandaged, though, and don’t let him run around on it too much because it needs time to mend as well. He should be able to breathe properly now, but if you see he has any trouble breathing, call me immediately on my personal phone and I’ll be there to help instantly.” The doctor handed over a small piece of paper and Aragorn accepted it with a slightly trembling hand. “He’s fine, don’t worry. Nothing was severely damaged and his lungs are fine. Get some food into him and get him warm. Make sure he doesn’t do any strenuous activities, alright?”

“Yes, doctor. Thank you,” Gimli said, speaking for Aragorn who had already run off to go see Legolas, gripping a cup of soda in each hand and having two bags of Subway dangling on his wrists. Reaching the blonde’s room, he practically tore open the door, a breathtaking smile placed on his lips as his eyes landed on the blue eyed beauty that had been the center of his worries for the past three hours. Walking over, the brunette placed one of the subs on pales thighs, watching as Legolas opened the bag with nimble fingers, tearing away the paper before eating his sub with a moan of appreciation.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I can breathe, so yes. I am sorry for worrying you. It was not my intention to cause your heart so much strain…” Legolas paused in eating, looking over at Aragorn with a pure apologetic expression that it felt like Aragorn’s heart was wrenched out of his chest and squeezed tightly.

“It’s quite alright, don’t worry. I’m pleased to know you are alright and that’s all that matters,” Aragorn responded quietly, molten grey staring into bright twin pools of blue that he could get lost in. They were like the color of the sky, but brighter in a way that it felt like they were gazing directly into your soul. Legolas released a smile before returning to eating his sandwich as Aragorn opened his own and began eating it as well, handing Legolas a cup of soda. Normally Legolas turned down any sugary drinks he thought would cause harm to his body, but there was always the occasional exception and this was one of them, seeing as the blonde took the bottle and sipped the carbonated liquid inside eagerly. “Everything is really okay, right?”

Blue eyes fixed themselves on the strong man before him, looking at the vision of beauty before him with a worried look and the blonde slowly smiled, giving a small nod of his head. “Everything is okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was chapter five! I hope you all enjoyed it and I'm sorry if you guys think this is going to fast--  
> What happened to Legolas actually happened to my friends aunt, but I don't know how the hotel procedures work for it, so just know that I tried my best!  
> Anyway, I would sincerely appreciate it if you could give me your thoughts on who should be Thranduil's new spouse. Once again, the choices are Bard, Galadriel, and Elrond. Please comment who you think it should be and I'll decide upon your comments!  
> Thank you for reading and please stay tuned for future chapters. I really appreciate the support!  
> Please feel free to comment and to leave kudos and such. They really make my day.  
> I'm ecstatic at how many comments I've gotten and how many kudos as well. I never thought my story would receive so much positive feedback, so I'm sincerely happy over this!  
> Thank you all once again! Until next time!


	6. Radiant Was Just a Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter six! Thank you for those of you who commented on who you thought should be with Thranduil and those of you whose opinions I already knew. Due to popular vote, a candidate has won and it is none other than our lovely Bard in all his glory!
> 
> Thank you all of you for sticking with me so far and we're already practically a fifth through the story and that makes me really happy because normally I get through two chapters and just stop, but I've gotten pretty far into this story and I'm really happy with how it's turning out and I hope you are too! Without further ado, chapter six!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> Yet again--can you guess?--unbeta'd. I try my best at fixing my mistakes, but I'm crap at it.

“The party is on New Year’s Eve, alright? You still have about half a month left till the party, but I would suggest getting your outfit now since it is a masquerade party. You have to dress all regal and whatever,” Gimli said, shoving the piece of paper at Aragorn’s chest and the brunette blinked in surprise before shaking his head a bit.

“I am not dressing up regardless of the means of the occasion. You know I very well detest dressing up gallantly for anything,” Aragorn said as he set the paper aside with a long suffering sigh as Gimli nodded his head in understanding before inhaling deeply and Aragorn knew the dwarf sized male was not through talking.

“Bilbo insists that you are to attend and that if you don’t find your own outfit, then he will find you one and do you really want Bilbo dressing you up?”

There was a silence as Aragorn shuddered slightly. The last time he had let Bilbo dress him up was for Faramir’s wedding and he didn’t even want to recall the memory of the atrocious suit he had been forced to wear. Of course, Bilbo’s sense of fashion actually wasn’t poor at all, but he made Aragorn dress up in something so horrible as a future reminder that whenever Bilbo asks him to dress up, he should do as instructed. “Fine, but only so that I won’t have to relive that nightmare,” Aragorn conceded, though he was already regretting it immediately. It was at that moment a certain blonde artists decided to leave his spot on the trees and make his way over, stretching his arms over his head as he approached and Aragorn felt his face heat up slightly. “How are you feeling?”

It had been a month since Legolas’s fall in the bathroom, but the blonde was still in pain at some points if he put too much pressure on his side. His ankle had healed without flaw and he could walk on it again, though he still wasn’t allowed to do overly strenuous things in case one of the ribs didn’t heal properly and something serious did happen. The bruise on Legolas’s leg had also faded, though it still hurt if one pressed down on it. “Fine,” Legolas responded easily with a smile directed at both Aragorn and Gimli as he walked over. “What are you guys conversing so loudly about?” Legolas questioned with a barely stifled yawn and Aragorn blinked in surprise.

“Wait, were you sleeping?”

“I ended up dozing off while doing my job,” was the sheepishly admitted response and Aragorn couldn’t help but laugh at it because Legolas had been doing that a lot lately. It seemed that his body was requiring extra sleep to heal itself.

“We were discussing Bilbo’s party,” Gimli said finally after Legolas had asked his question once more and blonde brows furrowed slightly in confusion, looking between the two of them curiously before he headed into the kitchen to make himself some tea.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Legolas called over his shoulder, voice still as soft as ever, like he knew how much he had to raise his voice to be heard at the same volume as always from a certain distance away, “who is Bilbo?” A blonde head popped out from around the corner as Legolas already set the water to boil and he looked at the two of them. “I don’t really mind not knowing who he is and I don’t mean to intrude or anything, but his name is mentioned so often that I’ve become curious. Forgive me,” Legolas mumbled, bowing his head slightly and Gimli released a hearty laugh, shaking his head.

“You’re not intruding, lad. Here,” Gimli handed the blonde a slip of paper as well and the confused expression on his face was priceless as both Aragorn and Gimli laughed at it. “Bilbo has requested for you to attend, as well.”

The uncertain expression that marred the delicate features of the male before him made Aragorn’s brow furrow slightly in confusion. He did not understand why such an expression would be worn on the blonde’s face after having been invited to a party, yet there it is and Aragorn slowly reaches out to place a hand on Legolas’s shoulder, gently squeezing to get the male’s attention and his eyes speak the question without it needing to leave his lips and Legolas’s eyes avert to look at the paper in his hand which is his invitation.

“I do not think I am worthy to attend to such a thing. I am already going with you to your father’s. I do not wish to intrude on other people’s lives.”

Aragorn looked at Legolas silently before speaking softly as if he were trying to soothe a startled pup. “You are not intruding on another person’s life if you are invited, Legolas,” Aragorn whispered and the look of hope that was directed at him was enough to make Aragorn want to sweep the male into his embrace and swing him around because it was just adorable. He could still see the barest tracings of uncertainty on his face and Gimli came to assure the male quickly.

“Everyone would like to meet you even though they won’t be able to see your face anyway,” Gimli spoke and a slow smile appeared on Legolas’s lips and the male bobbed his head in response.

“Very well, I will attend, though I do not know what to wear…”

“Fret not, Legolas. Bilbo says he has something special for you to wear. Well, I have to go and you both need to finish packing. You were supposed to leave two hours ago—”

“What?”

“So, bye!”

With that, Gimli was running to the door on short legs, slipping on his boots and coat and by the time Aragorn finally broke out of his shocked state, Gimli was already in the elevator.

“Gimli, you get back here!” Aragorn roared, tearing after the male who was pressing the closed button quickly. By the time Aragorn reached the elevator, the doors were already shut and he could hear Gimli’s laughter coming from the metal box as it moved down to the lobby.

“You know, we’re not late,” Legolas said at last, his eyes trained on the invitation in his hand, though his attention was on Aragorn who was slowly walking back towards him with a relieved expression. “We’re supposed to be there at two and it’s only twelve o’clock,” Legolas stated as his eyes finally rose from the invitation to look at Aragorn. The brunette stopped in front of the lithe male, looking at him in question and Legolas released a soft sigh as he sat the paper down on the kitchen counter, brow furrowed slightly. “I do not think I am fit to attend such a party,” Legolas admitted quietly, head bowed and fingers pressing into the clean kitchen counter, a curtain of gold shielding his expression from Aragorn’s searching eyes. The brunette thought back to the male’s reaction to his simple request for the blonde to accompany him to his father’s house for three days from the 24th to the 26th of December.

**_Flashback_ **

_Aragorn and Legolas had both been sitting beneath their usual tree, enjoying the silence that rested between them. There were no words exchanged, just their soft breathing as they lay, looking up at the stars, Aragorn on the ground and Legolas on his branch in the tree._

_“I do not like you up there,” Aragorn finally spoke, watching as Legolas shifted on the branch gingerly, watching out for his side, before locking eyes with his._

_“Why do you not?”_

_“Your current condition, for one…” A small smile appeared on pink lips and Legolas bit his bottom lip to stifle a laugh. “And two, because you seem so far to reach all the way up there, as if you are miles away from me,” Aragorn admitted the second reason with a soft voice, eyes gazing up at the blonde. “I do not like having you so far away, my friend.” There was a slight rustle and then a soft, barely audible, thump as Legolas dropped down to the ground before the blonde lay down next to the brunette with a small, amused smile._

_“Better?”_

_Aragorn nodded, sporting his own grin and he closed his eyes, enjoying the silence once more until he, himself, broke it again. “Come with me to my father’s place next week.” It was a simple sentence, nothing more than an invitation and yet when Aragorn glanced over at Legolas, he was baffled to see the blonde looking absolutely flustered._

_“I cannot. I would be intruding. It would be rude to enter another person’s household without having merited an invitation. And your father will not like me, I am sure of it. And—just, no,” Legolas rambled and Aragorn cocked an eyebrow in concern at the male’s behavior. Legolas had never acted like this, never panicked in such a way and Aragorn looked at the male worriedly._

_“My father will love you, trust me. Besides I would like him to meet my new friend.”_

_“But I can’t. I am happy you think me worthy enough to meet your father, but I do not and I can’t—”_

_“Please, Legolas,” Aragorn looked at the artist with hopeful grey eyes that were filled with a sense of sadness. “My sister will be there with her fiancé. I need you there.”_

_The two hadn’t discussed the contents of the message his sister had made Legolas deliver, Aragorn preferring to not think of it and Legolas respecting that enough to not say anything of, though any time she called he would take her message and let Aragorn read it. They would spend those nights with Legolas curled in Aragorn’s arms, singing the male to sleep softly before falling asleep himself. The blonde was his anchor, keeping him from floating away in despair and Aragorn knew he needed the blonde with him if he was to go. He couldn’t even bear the thought of his sister, or reading her messages. He knew he’d be unable to face her and her fiancé._

_“Very well, I will go…” Legolas finally conceded, looking at Aragorn with tired blue eyes. “But,” there was a pause and Aragorn cocked an eyebrow in curiosity, “only if you sing to me tonight.”_

_It was a low price to pay for getting the blonde to come along and Aragorn smiled and tried to think of a song he heard on the radio, singing the blonde to sleep as they once more fell asleep under the stars, the bed upstairs forgotten once more._

**_Flashback End_ **

“I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone before,” Aragorn began as he walked forward and leaned over so that his lips were just an inch away from a delicately pointed ear. “You are horrible at accepting invitations.”

The blonde whirled around with a pout and Aragorn had to bite back a laugh at the completely appalled expression upon the beautiful face, arms crossed over his chest as Legolas stared at Aragorn with a mock glare in place. “Well, _excuse me_ ,” Legolas drawled with a teasing bite behind the words, before he smiled a bit. “I’m sorry. I just—my father and I rarely got invited to parties and when we did, we turned them down…”

“Why?”

Aragorn placed a hand on Legolas’s shoulder and he found himself smiling despite the conversation because he didn’t pull away.

“We got invited to anything so rarely that we assumed they did it out of pity and we didn’t want to intrude, though my father wanted a good number of times to show up and trash the party.” At that, they both laughed a bit before quieting down.

“Well, please know that if I invite you to anything, it’s not out of pity. I wouldn’t invite anyone anywhere unless I truly wanted them there. I might be nice, but I’m not that nice,” Aragorn stated and he watched as a small smile crawled onto pink lips and he grinned before ushering Legolas up the stairs with him. “We must finish packing and we have to get ready,” Aragorn urged and Legolas laughed a bit as they both climbed the stairs and entered their shared room that they rarely slept in anymore, but Legolas kept it clean and dust free anyway, just in case, and Aragorn was grateful for it.

“May I do your hair?” The question was soft and the owner of the voice so pure that Aragorn found himself caught off guard for a moment and he blinked in surprise, finding himself nodding his head dumbly, unable to form words. Legolas had never asked such a thing from him in the entire month and a half that they had been living together, both normally spending their time in comfortable silence and although Legolas played with his hair on occasion whenever they slept huddled together after a message from Arwen, the question had never emerged. Sitting on the bed, he felt it sink slightly behind him as the blonde slowly crawled closer with a brush and settled behind him on his heels, knees pressed on either side of Aragorn. The brush ran through his hair, constantly stopping at all the knots the brunette bore in the messy dark locks, but Legolas’s touch was gentle and he found that it didn’t hurt as the blonde worked out the knots.

They spent what felt like hours, but was only a few minutes on Aragorn’s hair before Legolas pulled back a bit of the top portion, letting some locks remain on the side and gently braided the top portion he had taken before tying the bottom. Looking at his handiwork, there was a triumphant noise from behind and the blonde climbed off the bed before rounding about the other side at looking at Aragorn whose face felt hotter than it should after such an innocent thing.

“There! Your hair is pretty long once you get the tangles out of it,” Legolas mused while reaching a hand up and touching one of the soft locks of hair. The brunette smiled and stood up, touching own hair and smiling as he felt the gentle waves of it instead of the normal disarray of locks that sat atop his head.

“Thank you,” Aragorn spoke and he felt his heart lurch at the breathtaking smile he received from the blonde before the male was getting his clothes together. The blonde had decided to where a navy blue hooded sweater with a black t-shirt underneath and a pair of loose fitting black pants with a pair of brown leather boots Aragorn had insisted on buying him, though the reason was unknown to the blonde. The male changed quickly while Aragorn picked out a pair of loose denim jeans and a grey muscle t-shirt under a black coat. “You ready to head out?”

“Mmm, yeah, I believe so,” Legolas responded, holding the small book bag with all of his stuff inside in one hand, slinging it over his shoulder, his sketch pad grasped gently, but securely in his other arm, a small smile playing along his lips that Aragorn couldn’t help but return as he picked up his own two bags, one carrying his stuff and the other carrying his laptop and writing supplies and ideas. After all, he and Legolas decided they should still work over the days, though only when they were alone.

Everything went smoothly as they doused the fire, turned off the electricity which powered their stars at night and made sure everything was clean before riding the elevator downstairs. During the cab ride, everything was silent, though it was a content silence, filled with only the soft music playing from the cabs stereo and Legolas’s occasional fidgeting. The ride lasted no more than fifteen minutes and after paying the man, they both exited the taxi and stood before a grand building that looked to be made of polished gold even though it was just paint.

Glancing to his side, Aragorn found a smirk crawling onto his lips as he saw the look of awe on his friend’s face and he could only imagine what the male’s expression would be once they were inside. Nudging the blonde with his bag slightly, Aragorn led the way inside, past the revolving doors that Legolas had managed to get himself trapped in and ended up looking at Aragorn from the outside again with the utmost confusion that Aragorn had laughed and promptly gone outside once more. After having pulled Legolas close, he led Legolas through the revolving doors once more, going around twice for good measure before at last pulling the blue eyed blonde inside.

The interior lobby was as golden as the outside, the walls painted brightly in a gold coloring as chandeliers of gold hung from high ceilings and the red carpet covering a smooth, painted gold floor was the only thing that stood out despite the sparkling of all the other objects. They made their way to gold metal elevators and after the doors closed behind them and the metal box started moving to the fifteenth floor, Legolas spoke at last.

“I think I have never been sicker of the color gold.”

The sentence was spoken with the utmost seriousness that it sent Aragorn roaring with laughter and his eyes filled with tears and he gazed at Legolas whose blue orbs were filled with mirth before he too began to laugh and they soon found themselves leaning against each other for support of their laughing fit. The elevator doors opened and after they stepped out, they took a moment, fixing each others appearance and as Aragorn tucked a strand of stray blonde hair behind Legolas’s pointed ear, he saw a pale pink bloom on white cheeks and he couldn’t help the warm smile that graced his lips as he watched the blush spread to pointed ears.

“Will you be alright?” Aragorn questioned softly as he slowly, reluctantly, let his hand drop to his side and Legolas bobbed his head up and down in response as he gazed at Aragorn with an unreadable expression.

“It is you I am worried about. Please, try to enjoy yourself in your father’s company and do not concern yourself over matters with your sister. I want you to enjoy the time you spend here,” Legolas whispered, his head bowed, blonde hair shielding his face a bit and Aragorn can’t help but smile at his friend’s concern, his heart thumping just a bit harder than normal at the openness the male expressed of his feelings towards the situation. Reaching out, Aragorn wrapped strong arms around the artist, pulling him close and letting his chin rest upon golden locks for a brief moment before pulling back, giving the male a breathtaking smile that certainly did end up taking the blonde’s breath.

“Thank you for being here, Legolas. I do not know what I would do without you here,” he whispered, clapping the blonde firmly on the shoulder before moving to walk down the hall, moving to the familiar apartment door and he saw Legolas looking in curiosity at the large amount of space in between each door and the fact that there were only three doors on the floor despite the size of the building. Raising his hand, Aragorn knocked on the door lightly, his bag hanging on his shoulder on it strap, his other bag clutched in his hand on the same side. The door opened, revealing the one person he didn’t want to see first and Aragorn found himself stepping back just slightly before a soft, pale hand slipped into his own, squeezing it reassuringly.

Glancing to his side, Aragorn saw Legolas wearing an impassive look on his face, though his eyes were warm when he looked back at Aragorn. When the gaze turned to the opener of the door, they hardened, seeming to be the reflection of a frozen ocean, deep and dark and cold. Their joint hands were hidden behind Legolas’s bag and he tugged at the large tan hand he was gripping, springing Aragorn from his reverie and he looked back at the person before him.

Arwen looked radiant, standing there with the light from the indoors giving her a halo that made her seem angelic, but when he glanced at his side briefly, the light of Arwen seemed to fade and he returned his gaze to his sister, face a blank mask like Legolas and he reminded himself mentally to stay calm.

_“Radiant is but a word and Arwen but a name. Do not stress your mind over such things and go to your father.”_

It took Aragorn a moment to realize Legolas had whispered those words in his ear as he brushed past Arwen and Aragorn followed his example, not sparing a glance, but gritting out a rough ‘excuse me’ as he followed Legolas into the apartment, ignoring the stunned look on his sister’s face as he placed a gentle hand on the blonde shoulder and guided him to the room Aragorn always occupied when he was at his father’s. After all, Legolas was right. Radiant was just a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was chapter six! I hope you enjoyed it and I also hope you all are happy with the results of the voting! Please let me know your thoughts and I'll gladly reply to your comments! Thank you for your support and I hope you'll all continue to read. Until next time!


	7. Evening Under the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chapter seven! Um, I have nothing really to talk about this time, so just on with the chapter, I suppose!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> Once more, unbeta'd--

Aragorn’s room was the smallest in the apartment, though it was still rather large, but cozy and the brunette could have sworn he saw Legolas sigh in relief once the door was closed and he smiled a bit because the blonde looked so completely happy to fall onto his bed and ignore the rest of the world for only a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“I have never been ruder to a person in my years of life…” Legolas whispered barely audibly and the male had a look of pure horror on his face that made Aragorn want to burst out laughing because he had never met someone who found the idea of being rude so horrifying. Walking over, Aragorn sat down next to Legolas who rolled over immediately to place his head on the brunette’s lap, looking up at him. “Are you okay?” The words were soft and sweet, holding such a large amount of concern that it left Aragorn breathless for a moment and he reached out, gently running calloused fingers through blonde hair, smiling a bit as Legolas’s eyes fluttered shut with the action. He had learned that despite Legolas’s distant nature at first, the blonde actually rather enjoyed physical contact.

“I am fine,” Aragorn whispered softly, fingers halting their movement and remaining pressed against the blonde’s scalp. “I’m just,” he continued his movement, “a bit surprised that I would be facing her so soon into this…” His words are chosen carefully, indirectly admitting that he isn’t sure he’s completely okay, but also saying that he is alright, just unsettled. Legolas seems to accept it as a response because he hums softly before reaching up to gently twirl a soft strand of dark hair before slowly sitting up.

“Very well,” Legolas conceded with a soft smile as he rose from the bed. “Just remember that the only reason I’m here is for you,” Legolas said and Aragorn grinned standing up and heading to his friend, wrapping an arm around the slim shoulder, pulling the male close as he opened the door to the room and walked out, their bags left atop the bed.

They walked to the living room and only then did Aragorn release Legolas to go greet his father with a large hug and grin before greeting his two older twin brothers Elladan and Elrohir with a large hug that swept the two of them off their feet. Legolas smiled as he watched and Aragorn hugged his father once more, shooting the blonde a grin over his father’s shoulder.

“Welcome, Aragorn. It has been far too long since you last came to visit,” Elrond said with a soft smile and Aragorn laughed sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders a bit as if that was answer enough for his lack of visits and in a way it was since Elrond would probably not accept any excuse the brunette had to offer. “And who is this?” Elrond asked softly and Aragorn watched with a large sense of amusement as Legolas stiffened and a calm mask fell over his face once the attention was shifted to him.

“This,” Aragorn said as he walked over to Legolas, grabbing the male’s hand gently in an attempt to reassure the blonde before wrapping his arm around the blonde’s shoulders, “is my artist, Legolas. I hope its fine I brought him here. We were planning on spending Christmas together anyway,” Aragorn said, giving Legolas a warm smile that the blonde returned before the blonde bowed his head at Elrond, hand placed over his heart as he inclined his head.

“I apologize if I’m intruding,” Legolas said, voice soft as always and hearing so closely, even though Aragorn had heard it before, sent his mind reeling and his heart beat a little faster in his chest. The soothing melody that was Legolas’s voice seemed to go deep into his very soul with warmth that spread through Aragorn’s entire being like when you drink hot chocolate and the warmth spreads from your stomach to the rest of your body.

“Nonsense, Legolas. You are always welcome in our home,” Elrond replied, voice calm and smooth, low with a rich texture and louder than Legolas’s own humble voice, booming with authority. Legolas smiled in response, whispering a soft ‘thank you’ and Aragorn could feel the blonde’s very slight trembling and Aragorn leaned down to whisper in Legolas’s ear once Elrond’s attention was turned to the twins.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just becoming a bit hard to breathe,” Legolas whispered back and Aragorn’s face morphed into concern and he looked at blonde and noticed the blonde was pressing his fingers into his side slightly, arm wrapped around his middle and with the twins serving as a distraction, Aragorn led the blonde back to their room. Sitting him on the bed, Aragorn rummaged to his bag for the phone number of the doctor, finding it with a triumphant cry and he quickly dialed the number, holding his cell-phone to his ear and walking to the balcony located on the side of the room, sitting on one of the chairs there, urging the doctor mentally to pick up.

It was on the fourth ring that the phone was picked up and Aragorn released a sigh of relief at the voice of the doctor on the other line. “Hello, this Aragorn from the hospital. About a month ago you took care of a blonde male by the name of Legolas—he had broken four ribs.”

There was a pause before the doctor said he remembered the patient and asked what was wrong.

“Yeah, well, you said to call if he had so trouble breathing and he is, so what should I do? Do you want me to bring him to the hospital?”

On the other end of the line, the doctor shook his head before realizing the male couldn’t see him. “No, that won’t be necessary for now. What you’re going to want to do is make sure he breathes really slowly and shallowly to get his heart rate down and the pain should go away enough with that. Then he’ll be able to breathe normally again. At this point in time, it’s normally very rare for the ribs to shift out of place in the process of healing, so he must have been breathing irregularly for it to hurt.”

There was a relieved breath from the other line and the doctor smiled a bit at the sudden string of thanks he received from the male and he spoke a soft ‘no problem’ before he hung up.

“Who was that?” Came the silken voice behind him and he set his phone aside, rolling over on the bed and wrapping his arms around the other inhabitant.

“The guardian of a patient…” he mumbled as he gave a gentle squeeze to the waist his arms were wrapped around before rest his forehead on a male shoulder as he felt his love’s breathing even out before he himself fell asleep once more.

Aragorn walked back from the balcony, looking at Legolas who was clutching his side in pain, eyes squeezed shut and lips pressed firmly into a thin line. Crouching down in front of the male, he could see the pain written clearly on the delicate features of the male before him and brushed relucent gold locks out of the male’s face. “Legolas, the doctor said you just need to breathe shallowly for a bit and the pain should go away. Then you can breathe normally again, okay?” Aragorn whispered and he received a simple nod in response before Legolas was doing as instructed. His breaths became shallow, barely even audible and Aragorn sat himself next to the blonde, pulling him close before rubbing his hand up and down a clothed arm.

They sat there for a few minutes before Legolas finally pulled away, giving Aragorn a small smile that made his cheeks warm up just a bit at the warmth in those bright blue eyes that seemed to speak to him so warmly and kindly that he didn’t know what to do for a bit. “Thank you…” the words shocked him out of his stupor and he returned the smile with one of his own before placing a hand on Legolas’s side, pressing his fingers very lightly against it, feeling the ribs and he released a soft breath of relief, the touch easing his mind.

“No problem. Now, come on. My father is probably wondering where we disappeared to.”

“Oh, I think I already know.”

The voice from the doorway shocked both of them and Aragorn’s head whipped around to meet his father’s gaze with wide surprise eyes. Brown, amused orbs met his and Elrond practically glided into the room, moving quickly and elegantly in his beige slacks and un-tucked white dress shirt. His long hair was combed back, pulled into a ponytail that was tied about an inch or two from the tips.

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, he just broke a few ribs about a month ago and they’re still healing, is all,” Aragorn responded and he felt the soft bob of Legolas’s head next to him and he looked over, eyes locking with blue and he gave the male a reassuring smile before they both stood up. “Did we miss much?”

“Arwen’s fiancé just arrived, that’s all. I came to fetch you both that you could greet him,” Elrond said, giving them both gentle smile which they both returned, though they were small in comparison to Elrond’s and the older male couldn’t help but worry a bit. Normally his son gave a larger smile than that. He could understand Legolas’s silence, but the sudden quiet from Aragorn was baffling to Elrond who took pride on how well he could read his children and he wondered silently if he lost some of that talent with Aragorn after the brunette moved away.

They walked out of the room, Legolas shutting the door behind them gently before they moved down the hall in silence. Upon entering the living room, Arwen ran to Elrond, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight before pulling back and motioning for her fiancé to come over. Aragorn found himself tensing and he looked to his side frantically for Legolas and was met with warm blue eyes looking up at him and the blonde whispered one word him so soft that only he could hear it.

_“Breathe…”_

That was all Aragorn needed to hear and he gripped Legolas’s hand tightly, inhaling deeply before exhaling, putting a blank mask on his face and when he peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw Legolas had down the same, though the assuring squeeze delivered to his hand let him know that the blonde was still there for him, merely bracing himself for the unknown.

“Father, this is Eomer, my fiancé,” Arwen said and Elrond cocked an eyebrow before holding out his hand for the male to shake. Eomer’s grip was firm and strong and he had a set look in his eyes that Elrond could appreciate. Pulling his hand back Elrond smiled one of those smiles that spoke thirty things at once.

“Welcome to our home,” Elrond spoke and he stood next to Eomer before sweeping his arm at the four other male’s in the room.

“Hello, I am Eomer. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Eomer said with a smile that was warm and kind and yet neither he nor Legolas showed any reaction. Stormy grey locked with deep brown and he saw the look of contempt that crossed Eomer’s face for a brief moment before it was gone.

“Father, I was wondering if he could sleep in Aragorn’s room while he stays here. You know, to assure you that we won’t do anything during the night,” Arwen said and Aragorn visibly stiffened at the thought and Legolas next to him tightened his hold on his hand just slightly as when he looked down at the blonde, he saw the familiar blue eyes were hard as ice and shined with something akin to anger, if such a thing was possible for the beautiful blonde.

“Your brother and his friend are staying in that room,” was Elrond’s only response and Arwen smiled sweetly.

“But there are many spare bedrooms Aragorn and his _friend_ ,” Aragorn winced at the way she said the word, like it was an accusation to him, “and I would really like Eomer to able to see how pretty everything looks outside from the balcony here.”

Something snapped inside the blonde, Aragorn could see it and blue eyes hardened and the look in them was livid. There was a sort of calm manner that Legolas carried himself in that made Aragorn think his father seemed rather small compared to the fair headed beauty that had stepped forward.

“If I may be so bold as to interrupt,” Legolas’s eyes flicked to Elrond and at the nod of approval, he continued speaking, “Aragorn has already occupied his room and your reason would normally hold no manner of it changing because you can show him the view briefly and then leave. Eomer has no need to sleep there.”

Aragorn couldn’t help the grin that spread on his lips as he watched the blonde. He could feel the very slight tremor of the fingers he held, he knew Legolas was out of his comfort zone currently, speaking in front of people he barely knew. He knew all of this and it warmed his heart because he knew the blonde was doing it for him. He remembered he had explained to Legolas how he had chosen that room, how he had decorated it himself, how it was his safe haven. Legolas knew this and he was defending it for Aragorn.

“Plus, Aragorn’s room is directly next to yours, also, isn’t that right? If Elrond is concerned of what you guys do during the night, it would be unwise to situate him in a room right next to yours, would it not?”

“That’s right! And one of the guest rooms has a balcony too, so you can see the view all the same!” Elladan and Elrohir pointed out eagerly and Elrond couldn’t help but smile at their eagerness to join in.

“I’m afraid they have a very good point, my dear daughter. Besides, I wouldn’t let anyone other than Aragorn sleep in his room, regardless the reason. You wouldn’t want anyone sleeping in yours, would you?”

A silence fell and Aragorn gave the blonde’s hand a gentle squeeze and when Legolas looked at him, the brunette could see the light blush that was dusting the fair skin and tinting high cheekbones and pointed ears a light red. Placing a strong hand on Legolas’s shoulder, Aragorn gave the blonde a warm, bright smile that could light up the room and chase away the shadows and he watched Legolas’s blush intensify a bit and he couldn’t help but think that the blonde looked really cute like that. Chasing the thought out of his mind, Aragorn looked at his sister and then at Eomer and he could see both of their glares directed at him and Legolas and he tensed slightly, but put on a smile, tearing his gaze away from them to look at his father.

“Thank you for keeping by bedroom to me only, father. It means a lot,” Aragorn said and he felt his heart warm at the gentle smile the older brunette directed at him. “And thank you three for defending it,” he said, turning his gaze to Elladan and Elrohir before his gaze shifted and lingered on Legolas at his side before it returned to the rest of the room. “So, what’s for lunch? Are we going out of eating in?” Aragorn asked with a light laugh and Elrond grinned, something very unlike himself declared they were going out before marching to the door and everyone else followed behind him, Legolas lingering behind a moment longer until Aragorn stopped and motioned for him to come.

Lunch was nice, minus the glares being directed at him occasionally from Arwen, though Eomer didn’t glare at him once, apparently not wanting to risk making a good first impression on Elrond by glaring at one of his sons, a decision Aragorn had to admit was wise and something he was grateful for since he didn’t want to deal with two people glaring at him. When Elrond asked Legolas why he was eating so little, Aragorn found himself having to jump in, saying that Legolas had eaten a late breakfast and was still rather full which Elrond nodded at and smiled at Legolas warmly.

After lunch, Legolas and Aragorn had excused themselves to Aragorn’s room where they sat on the balcony with Aragorn typing away on his computer and Legolas drawing the next victim of the alleyway for Aragorn’s book. Aragorn always took any paintings Legolas drew for his book from Legolas’s sketch pad and kept them in a folder since his identity had to be kept a secret and if someone found the paintings, then they could lead them back to him, so Aragorn always took them and Legolas never minded.

Hours passed and they still were sitting on the balcony, Legolas now looking at the stars while Aragorn was putting the finishing touches on the last three chapters he wrote for his book. They had accomplished quite a bit and Aragorn knew that now he would only have to edit the chapters for the rest of time he was there at his father’s house.

“I’m going to get us something to drink, okay?” Aragorn said and Legolas nodded his head, shooting the brunette a smile and Aragorn rose from his spot, saving the documents and putting his laptop in his bag before exiting the bedroom. The walk to the kitchen was short and silent, excluding the noise coming from the television and the laughter of the twins and his father. Entering the kitchen, Aragorn took to glasses, filling them with water and dropping in two ice cubes in each just in case he and Legolas just let the water sit there like they normally did after drinking only half.

Turning, Aragorn halted in surprise a he saw Arwen there, looking at him with a look he never thought she would direct at him and it broke his heart to know that his sister was looking at him like he was some murderer. It was like he was no longer her brother, but a stranger to detest for having a simple opinion. Snapping out of his haze as soon as she moved, he quickly brushed past her, heading back to his bedroom.

Returning to the room, Aragorn blinked as he saw Legolas leaning over the railing of the balcony, toes barely brushing the ground and he walked over, setting down the cups before going to Legolas and pulling him away from the edge, hands holding onto Legolas’s slim waist tightly. “Don’t do that. You could fall.”

Aragorn had definitely not been expecting the blonde male to laugh and the sound was like music to Aragorn’s ears, although he could not find the hilarity in the situation. “Aragorn, I will not fall. I can catch myself before I tip over.”

“You are injured,” Aragorn pointed out with a look of concern on his face and the blonde male turned in his grasp, looking at Aragorn’s face clearly and blinked in surprise before his expression softened into one of concern as he saw the wetness in the grey orbs.

“What happened, my friend?” Legolas whispered, allowing Aragorn to pull them both to the chair on the balcony and the brunette embraced the smaller male tightly, burying his face into a pale neck, the stubble of his beard grazing over sensitive flesh and Legolas had to suppress the shiver, fingers coming up to run through finally combed locks as he whispered the male’s name in a soft soothing voice, waiting for him to calm down. It was a bit before Aragorn finally stopped crying and he pulled back and watched as Legolas’s fingers gently brushed away his tears before the blonde removed his sweater; the shoulder completely soaked and set it to the side before returning his gaze to Aragorn, curling up next to the male and allowing strong arms to hold him. He waited silently for Aragorn to begin talking and after a few more moments, Aragorn did.

“She looked at me like I was some monster. As if I ripped her heart out and fed it to the dogs. Is having an opinion so bad?” Aragorn whispered, voice broken and Legolas remained silent, knowing that what Aragorn needed was peace and quiet and to feel like someone was there and Legolas was happy to provide his friend with it. He let his thumb make small circles on Aragorn’s clothed bicep softly, providing as much comfort as he could. Minutes ticked by and blue eyes looked up at the sky, glimmering in the reflection of the city lights, the stars barely visible.

“My father and I used to spend Christmas outdoors, despite the cold. We would go out to the forests and climb the trees and just look at the stars all night,” Legolas whispered softly as he gazed up at the starless sky, too many lights being on in the surroundings for them to be visible.

“I would like to meet him someday.”

“Maybe you will, eventually,” Legolas whispered back and he looked at Aragorn, giving him a small smile before resting his head against the broad chest of the other male, letting his eyes closed. “Then, we could all spend an evening under the stars.”

Aragorn felt his face heat up and his heart beat faster as he suddenly became a lot more aware of the male he was currently holding, but he didn’t dare move away, didn’t want to move away. He could feel Legolas’s breathing slow as the male fell asleep and Aragorn shifted a bit to look down at the blonde and before he registered what he was doing, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the pale forehead, a soft smile stretching onto his lips. “An evening under the stars sounds nice,” he whispered, gazing up at the dark night sky before he too fell into a deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was chapter seven and I hope you enjoyed it! I must admit that I wasn't entirely satisfied with this chapter, but I had written four times and this was the best one, so meh--whatever. I hope you guys enjoyed it and until next time!


	8. Lightning and Thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so hi! This chapter contains a bit of drama, more than I would like and Legolas's reaction to the whole thing is what mine is whenever I watch a soap opera XD I'm just screaming at the people on tv to talk to each other already and get rid of the drama.
> 
> Um, there's also a small mature scene with Aragorn, but I tried to make it not too descriptive so that those who did not read the tags still have a chance to leave if you wish to because moments like that will eventually happen here. I kept the moment vague, though!~
> 
> Um, I think that's it. I hope you enjoy the chapter even though I'm not thoroughly proud of it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S  
> Not beta'd, but I'm getting a beta soon, so be very happy that chapters will hopefully be more correct now!~

The morning when they woke wasn’t awkward, like most would expect. Legolas and Aragorn woke up and gave each other sleepy smiles before Legolas got up, inquired where the bathroom was and after receiving directions, he had grabbed a change of clothes and his towel before walking sleepily, yet silently, to the bathroom. It was only six in the morning, but Legolas and Aragorn both woke up like clockwork. The brunette had gone back inside and sat on the unused bed, picking up his laptop and beginning to do a bit of editing of his story, though not much since he wanted something to do if he ever got bored during the remaining two days.

He had been typing for five minutes when Elrond suddenly opened the door with a startled look and stared at him as if he was mad. “Six o’clock in the morning and you’re already awake?” Elrond whisper shouted in clear shock, voice clear with shock and Aragorn cocked an eyebrow in confusion, saving the document and closing his laptop, setting it aside.

“I normally wake up this early,” Aragorn said, sitting up and motioning for his father to join him who, he noticed, was clothed in nothing but a pair of pajama pants that had little candy canes on it against a clean white background. “You always were one to fully participate in the holidays, weren’t you, dad?”

“Oh, these pants, you mean? I wear them all year round,” Elrond stated as he plopped himself on the bed before running long fingers through long tousled locks of brown and Aragorn noticed with no small sense of amusement that Elrond’s hair was just a bit shorter than Legolas’s. The blonde’s tips reached about an inch below the middle of his back while Elrond’s stopped about an inch above. A grin appeared on Aragorn’s lips at the words and he swung a pillow at his father gently, laughing at the startled look that crossed the brunette’s face as the soft object collided with his face. “What happened to my boy who used to sleep in till noon and then refuse to get up until someone threatened to throw him off the balcony?” Elrond teased.

“And what happened to my extremely charismatic dad who would never wander around the house wearing candy cane pajama pants when guests are present?”

That seemed to shock Elrond and he blinked in surprise before he was standing up and marching out of the room, much to Aragorn’s amusement, muttering something about it being too early and he had forgotten, though there had been a hint of a smile playing along thin lips.

It was at that moment that Legolas decided to walk back in, looking behind himself in confusion as he watched Elrond scurry away before looking at Aragorn with the same look. “Is he alright?” Legolas asked as he sat down on the bed and Aragorn laughed a bit, picking up a brush and moving over to Legolas who blinked in surprise, but didn’t move away. The brush ran through golden locks easily, never halting for knots and Aragorn smiled because it seemed so Legolas like. The blonde was someone who was always perfect no matter what, even when he thought he wasn’t. The first moment they had met, Legolas had been in rags, practically, with clothes too old to be able to last for much longer and yet the blonde had looked like an angel then and that had been the only thing Aragorn could focus on at that moment.

“He’s fine, just remembered something,” Aragorn soothed with a grin. Legolas blinked in confusion, but let it slide, eyes fluttering shut as the brush slid through his hair smoothly and he leaned back slightly, towel resting next to him and he smiled a bit as he felt rough calloused fingers slipping through his hair to style it. It was very rare that Legolas let someone touch his hair, never being one too fond of having it messed up, but Aragorn knew this and Legolas trusted him, so he allowed the male to work.

Aragorn’s finger pulled Legolas’s hair back at the side, the tips of his fingers brushing over a pointed ear and he saw Legolas squirm in his spot a bit, biting his bottom lip. “Did I hurt you?” The question was spoken worriedly and Aragorn watched as the blonde head shook slightly before nodding his head a bit and continuing on doing one of the thin braids always on one side of Legolas’s head. “Do you mind telling me why you reacted that way, then? Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” Aragorn whispered, finishing up the braid and turning to the other side, moving to do that braid.

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” Legolas’s voice sounded strained as if he was trying to suppress the sound of his voice and Aragorn’s brow furrowed a bit. “It’s just,” a pause and that same look again, perfect white teeth sinking into pink flesh and blue eyes squeezing shut before a moment passed and Legolas continued speaking, “my ears are really sensitive.” It took a moment for the words to process in Aragorn’s mind, but once they did he stopped his ministrations, blinking and looking at the ears just beneath where the braid was. Aragorn could only emit a soft ‘oh’ as his mind helpfully conjured up what noises Legolas had been trying to hold back and he shook his head a bit in an attempt to clear his thoughts from the less than innocent ones.

“I’ll try to be more careful,” Aragorn responded, voice nothing more than a whisper and he found himself thankful it was so early because otherwise he wouldn’t have an excuse for whispering other than he didn’t trust his voice at the current moment. Finishing the braid, Aragorn did the one in the back hurriedly, yet still making sure to keep it exactly how Legolas always did it before rising from the bed and looking at Legolas’s face. There was a light tint of pink on the blonde’s cheeks, but a gentle smile was settled upon pink lips and Aragorn felt the familiar sense of calmness wash over him at the sight.

“Thank you,” Legolas murmured as he rose from the bed as well, setting his towel aside to dry before going to his bag to search for something.

“I’m going to go shower,” Aragorn called softly to the blonde who nodded his head and after grabbing a change of clothes and his own towel, Aragorn made his way to the bathroom. Leaving the door unlocked behind him since his father used to have a rule that the door couldn’t be locked in case of emergencies, Aragorn quickly undressed before stepping into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind him before beginning to wash up.

The thoughts he had so successfully blocked out back in the room seemed to come back immediately, though, and Aragorn looked down at himself in surprise before gritting his teeth. There was _no way_ he was going to jack off to the thought of one of his friends. That would be wrong, right? Aragorn rested his forehead against the tiles on the wall, allowing the water to beat down on his back as his hand unconsciously slipped downward as the noises he imagined from before came back full force. Legolas’s face, the pink of his cheeks, the way his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, the pointed ears, the—he couldn’t do this. It was wrong. But despite the logical part of his mind telling him he was practically betraying a friend by doing this, his hand wouldn’t stop. It continued to move and he could feel the heat coiling in his belly. This was wrong, this was very wrong, but it felt so right.

“Aragorn!”

That was undoing and he bit down on his hand to stifle his moan as he came, eyes squeezing shut and entire body tensing. He didn’t do that just now. He did _not_ just do that.

“Aragorn, I’m sorry to disturb you, but please come out quickly,” Legolas voice sounded rather panicked and Aragorn blinked before he hurriedly finished washing up, deciding he would deal with his traitorous thoughts later because what Legolas didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? Wasn’t that the saying?

“I’m going, give me a moment,” Aragorn called back and he heard the soft ‘alright’ before Aragorn was turning off the water and drying himself off quickly, dressing himself just as fast before he opened the bathroom door and stumbled back a bit as Legolas immediately wrapped his arms around him, head buried in the crook of his neck. Slowly, after a brief moments shock, Aragorn returned the embrace and ran his hand up and down the quivering male’s back. “My friend, what happened?” Aragorn whispered and Legolas pulled back, a look of utter desperation on his face.

“I can’t find it.”

“Find what?” Aragorn’s brow furrowed. It had to be something pretty important to get Legolas, who was infinitely calm, to be so panicked and frenzied. Plus, Legolas never lost things. No matter how small, Legolas never lost anything. He knew where everything was down to the dust particle and Aragorn himself was starting to feel a bit panicked too.

“My sketch book, I can’t find it.”

The desperation suddenly seemed very clear to Aragorn and he pulled Legolas close again, holding him tightly as Legolas held onto him for dear life. “We’ll find it, don’t worry. Where did you last put it?” Aragorn asked softly as he moved down the hall, Legolas still held close as they entered their room.

“In my bag after you left to go get water, I put it in my bag and then I went to the balcony again,” Legolas responded and his voice sounded broken like someone had ripped something extremely dear to him away, which was technically true. The sketch book was the only thing Legolas owned that he had bought with his own money and he took great care of it and it was especially dear to him. He remembered when he asked Legolas about it, about two weeks after the blonde moved in, he had responded with _“I can always my another one, but the memories and the friends this one has let me make are something I can never by back.”_

“And you checked all the bags, right?”

“Yes, all of them, I checked all of them. I checked the bed also, the cabinets, the closets, everywhere. It’s not there,” Legolas replied, voice almost nearing a sob and Aragorn sat down on the bed, holding the blonde close and rocking him back and forth gently, fingers running through dry blonde hair gently. This wasn’t okay. Legolas never lost anything which could only mean…

“Legolas, was anyone else in the room yesterday?”

“Not that I was aware of. No one entered except for you and we stayed out on the balcony all night, so—wait,” Legolas pulled back, shocked blue orbs meeting grey and Aragorn nodded his head a bit, already knowing what the blonde would ask.

“There’s no other logical explanation. You’ve never lost anything and if you’re certain you put it in your bag and you’ve searched everywhere, then someone must have taken it.

“But who would take it? That sketch book only means anything to me, no one else. It’s just paper,” Legolas questioned and Aragorn reached a hand up to stroke the backs of his fingers across the smooth skin of the blonde’s cheeks, relishing in the feel before pulling his hand back and stroking the male’s hair again.

“I don’t know, but we’ll ask during breakfast, alright? Maybe someone here took it if we’re lucky,” Aragorn whispered and Legolas nodded his head numbly before curling up against Aragorn, allowing himself to be held, but for different reasons for once. This time it was not Aragorn who was hurting, but Legolas.

Time seemed to go by really quickly because before ether of them knew it, they were sitting at the dining table being served plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, and orange juice like in the movies. The pancakes were covered in maple syrup, whip cream, and strawberries and Aragorn looked at Legolas next to him who looked like he had just been told to eat everything on the table, his eyes wide and mouth opened slightly in shock.

“You don’t have to eat all of it, if you can’t,” Aragorn assured with a soft smile, patting Legolas’s knee gently under the table cloth and Legolas nodded his head a bit with a smile as he slipped his hand to his knee and grasped the larger one with his own, slender fingers curling around Aragorn’s hand. The brunette swallowed past the lump that had risen in his throat, giving the hand a firm squeeze before retracting it since he needed his hand to eat. They both picked up their forks and began to eat in silence while Elrond asked everyone how their night was. Once the question was directed at them, though, all fell silent and Aragorn paused eating, though Legolas didn’t.

“We slept well, thank you,” Aragorn responded with a warm smile directed solely at his father before he continued eating.

“Why are you so quiet?” Elladan questioned finally, blinking with a look akin to surprise on his face.

“You used to talk so much during meals,” Elrohir added with an equally surprised look marring his features before they both looked at each other and then back at Aragorn before their gaze shifted from Aragorn to Elrond whose gaze was transfixed on Legolas and then the twins soon joined in with staring at the blonde who was silently eating. He visibly tensed at the feel of three pairs of eyes on him, but he continued eating as if he wasn’t being blatantly stared at. The blonde looked complete composed in the situation and Aragorn found himself wishing he had that much control over his own emotions. Eomer and Arwen had stopped their side conversation to stare at Legolas as well and soon the whole family was staring at the fair haired beauty.

Legolas soon stopped eating, setting down his fork and slowly rising from the table. “Thank you for the meal. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I have to use the bathroom,” Legolas said, giving a small bow before he was gone from the table and everyone was left staring at the spot where the blonde had formerly sat.

“Why were you guys staring at him?” Aragorn finally asked after about three seconds of silence, looking at is family curiously, though clearly avoiding looking at Eomer and Arwen. They all turned their looks to Aragorn.

“Did he change you?” Elrond finally asked, cocking an eyebrow, but there was no malice on his face, just curiosity, though Aragorn couldn’t help but take offense at the question in place of Legolas. He couldn’t believe the question. Legolas didn’t change him. He was still the same person, only he knew how to take care of himself a bit better and for that he was infinitely grateful to the blonde.

“No, he did not,” Aragorn practically growled, but managed to keep his voice steady enough to sound seemingly aloof, though there was a bite to his words that clearly showed the offense he had taken at the simple question. Elladan and Elrohir shared a look once more before they both leaned forward.

“Are you in love with him?” They asked a unison and a silence blanketed all of them as Aragorn blinked, eyes wide and a baffled expression on his face, mouth opening and closing, appearing like a fish out of water. His mind hadn’t caught up to the question asked and he stared at the pair of twins before him in complete and utter shock, face heating up. Legolas reappeared at that moment and gave them all a look of confusion before he turned to look at Aragorn, lips parted to seemingly ask him something before Arwen stood up abruptly with a laugh.

“Please, like he can love! He doesn’t even believe in love!”

Elrond’s eyebrows rose at this and his eyes widened into an expression that mocked Aragorn’s before, but Aragorn’s now was angry and he abruptly stood up, slamming his hands down on the table.

“And what’s it to you? Have I ever told you not to love?”

“You disapproved of my marriage!”

“I never did not approve to anything! I congratulated you and went on my way!”

“You tried to keep me from love!”

“I did no such thing!”

Legolas’s eyes closed and he bowed his head, eyes opening slightly to look down at what he was holding tightly in his hand and his brow furrowed. Elladan and Elrohir had jumped up and joined the fight as well and soon enough Elrond was on his feet as well and Eomer to join the fight, all of them spitting out insults at each other and yelling at each other. “Enough…” Legolas whispered, teeth gritting. Memories flashed through his mind and Legolas felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, willing the tears away. The screaming rose in volume and Arwen picked up her glass of orange juice and flung the liquid at Aragorn, who managed to avoid getting splashed and the orange liquid hit Legolas on the top of his down turned head. None of them seemed to take any notice and Legolas looked back up, eyes hard and the orange juice that now drenched golden locks dripped down onto his face.

“ _Enough!_ ”

Everyone froze, mouths open for another bout of insults and all eyes turned to look at the drenched Legolas who was clutching his sketch pad tightly in his hand, blue eyes squeezed shut, lithe frame trembling slightly. The eyes slowly opened and all of them felt their blood run cold. The look of pure fury in the normally warm eyes seemed to chill them all to the bone, even Elrond.

“Can you guys stop fighting for a moment and even realize what you’re all saying?” Legolas hissed, face tight with anger and Aragorn wanted so badly to walk forward and apologize, but he had never seen Legolas so openly mad and had no clue how to handle it, so he stayed put. “Arwen, there is nothing wrong with your brother’s opinion.” Arwen opened her mouth to protest, but Legolas shot her a cold glare and she fell silent. “It was an opinion you were long since aware of and to hold it against him when it comes to your marriage only shows that you are a bad sibling and closed your heart to your own brother for the love you found. Eomer, you have no reason to hate Aragorn so much for an opinion he holds. He has every right to think as he does and none of you even know the reason, so I suggest you silence yourselves before you make larger fools of yourselves.”

Eomer looked absolutely livid at being talked down to by the blonde and he glared, fists clenching. “Yeah, b—”

_“No, buts,”_ Legolas all but hissed, glare intensifying if possible, “there are no buts right now, Eomer. Aragorn,” his cold gaze turned to Aragorn and he knew that the male was going to speak of him now and he prayed that Legolas wouldn’t reveal anything he had told the male privately just because of his anger, “there is nothing wrong with your opinion. I, myself, hold an opinion similar to it, but I know not of your reason and I see no need to. You guys can’t go on like this! You’re a family and I’m very much tired of seeing you all get torn over such a thing. Elrond, your son has not changed, merely learned to take care of himself. Elrohir and Elladan, your brother is still the same person he was. I want you all to stop being a group of kids for a moment and realize that you’re only hurting each other! You’re a family, act like one! If you all share a bond with each other, then I suggest you realize it and acknowledge it!”

Elrond’s eyes were wide and there was a look of recognition in his eyes. He had seen someone who looked very much like Legolas did at this moment, bright blue eyes blazing with barely contained fury, slim form trembling with power and rage, blonde hair pulled back, an air of power emitting from him.

“Who gave you the right to talk down to us as if you’re a member of this family?” Arwen hissed and Legolas moved before anyone realized what was going on and he was towering over Arwen, face but an inch from hers.

“Who gave me the right?” He hissed and he slammed his fist down on the table, body trembling. “Let me ask you this,” he hissed and held out his sketch pad which Aragorn now realized he had been holding, “who gave you the right to touch this? Did you think I would not know?”

“Legolas…” Aragorn whispered softly and the blonde suddenly withdrew, chest heaving and his hand placed on his side, but his glare remained firmly in place.

“Why were you in my stuff?” Arwen hissed.

“Why were you in _mine?”_

There was a silence now over everything and Aragorn’s gaze snapped to Arwen, finally breaking out of his shock and he felt his own anger spring forth. “You were in his stiff? You’re the one that took his sketch book?”

Legolas ran his hand over the book as if soothed him a bit and he closed his eyes as he heard Aragorn’s words, hissed with such anger that he felt himself calm down, just a bit and he opened the sketchbook only to have it slip from his fingers a look of pure horror crossing his face and he released a strangled gasp. He barely registered the smug smirk that crossed Arwen’s face as he felt the sting in the back of his eyes and he didn’t bother willing the tears away this time, just closed his eyes tightly.

Aragorn stopped his glaring at Arwen when he saw the smirk grace her normally smiling lips and he looked at where Legolas stood, seeing a hand fly to his mouth as his eyes were squeezed shut. That immediately got the brunette’s attention and his gaze shifted downwards and he saw Legolas’s sketchbook on the floor. Hurrying over, Aragorn bent down to pick it up, looking for what could have deducted such a reaction from Legolas and that’s when he saw it. Scrawled over each page in thick black sharpie was a word, different on each page, and then the remaining blank pages had an ‘x’ running through each of them. Aragorn looked at his sister with a look of the utmost anger and he marched over, raising his hand and slapping his sister across the face.

The moment was brief and the mark that bloomed across a pale cheek was red and pulsing in pain, but Aragorn paid it no mind. Elrond, broken out of his reverie at how much Legolas looked like someone he knew, moved to Aragorn’s side, not knowing what to make of the situation and Aragorn merely thrust the book into his father’s hands before turning to Legolas and taking him into his arms and holding him close, feeling the blonde’s body shake, not in anger, but in sobs that wracked his body, shaking him to his very core.

“Arwen,” Elrond whispered his voice low and dangerous. He knew the truth behind Legolas’s words from before and he knew that now his daughter had stepped too far. As much as he loved his daughter, his leniency could only stretch so far, “I want you to go to your room,” Elrond spoke, leaving no room for argument, but of course, there was one with her.

“I’m not five—”

“You are in my home, so you will do as I say! I can handle sibling rivalry, but you have ruined the property of someone outside of this family and that is unacceptable!”

“But what I wrote is the truth! Aragorn can’t love!”

“The so be it,” Aragorn roared and he felt Legolas flinch in his arms and he lowered his voice a bit. “I do not need to love to accept another person’s willingness to devote their selves to another. I do not wish to love, Arwen. Why can’t you accept that?”

“Why can you not accept that others wish to love you?”

“I do not ask that of them!”

“Love hurts,” Legolas whispered. His voice was just loud enough to be heard in the brief moment of silence that lapsed after Aragorn’s outburst. “Arwen, what you wrote is not that truth. I do not wish for what you think. I merely wish for him to be happy and to see his eyes be filled with the light life has taken away from him. The man I saw every day was one that looked like life had played a cruel joke on him and I simply wish for his smile to return.” Legolas’s words were soft and broken, his blue eyes shining before he stepped away from Aragorn’s embrace and turned to Elrond. “May I use your bathroom to clean myself up?” Legolas asked the sound barely more than a whisper and he motioned to his hair still soaked with orange juice and Elrond nodded softly before turning to speak with everyone else as Legolas left the kitchen.

“I hope you’ll take into consideration his words. He seems like someone who has already faced many things that can separate a family. We shall all see each other at dinner, no exceptions. Aragorn,” Elrond’s gaze turned to him and the brunette stiffened slightly, “do not let fear control your heart. That is my only advice. No everyone, if you’re not going to help clean up, get out. I have to cook dinner!”

Everyone dispersed and Aragorn could hear Elrond’s brief grumbling about lazy kids and their lack of willingness to help and Aragorn would have returned to help him, but his thoughts were on Legolas. He noticed that Legolas was kind of like lightning. He came silent and quick before disappearing in a flash with a loud crack that left an impact on you, only to be accompanied by the rumble of thunder and Aragorn found himself thinking that he would gladly be the thunder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, yeah, so that was chapter eight--please don't hate me. I wasn't thoroughly satisfied with this chapter, but I have family coming over tomorrow, so I wanted to get an update out for you guys and hopefully I'll manage to write at least three chapters tomorrow to post so that you guys have something to read if I don't have enough free time to write more chapters while my family is here.  
> (I don't even want them to come /sobs)
> 
> Please feel free to comment and give me kudos! They make me smile : D
> 
> A beta will soon be on this story, so please celebrate because my work will be nettled with less mistakes!
> 
> Human Smaug will be making his appearance soon, also, so please look forward to that! I am currently working on Smaug with another person and hopefully we'll have that settled in time for when he's supposed to come in!
> 
> Okay, I think that's it! Thank you for reading and until next time!


	9. Our Job Must Begin Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry for the long wait for this update. After my relatives left, school started again, so I was thrown back into that and they thought that it was completely logical to bombard me with a ton of homework since we just got back from break. So, I'm extremely sorry for the long wait--here's chapter nine! I know it's short, but I really wanted to get a chapter up for you guys who have supported me continuously throughout this! Thank you!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> This chapter has yet to be beta'd, but I really wanted to get it out for you guys--I did get a beta, though! She's amazing, so special shout out to her! Beautiful work, she does--beautiful!
> 
> Alright, enjoy!

Elrond could feel the headache forming, if the gentle pulsing at his temples was anything to go by. He put the ham he had been making into the over before sighing softly in exhaustion. How his family ended up like this, he had no clue. They had been such a happy family before Aragorn moved out. Even the twins hadn’t moved out then and they were older then Aragorn, yet Aragorn, the youngest of them all, had left the bunch to go to a college and stay living at the dorms and then, consequently, stayed on his own. Elrond hadn’t received much news from Aragorn after the male left, only the small things that Arwen could tell him in the rare times that she managed to see her brother and get an audience with him.

Moving around the kitchen seamlessly, Elrond found himself taking out his frustrations on the poor vegetables he was cutting before he heard a soft voice call his name and turning around, his eyes met blue and Elrond blinked in barely suppressed surprise to see Legolas standing there, hair a bit damp from the shower, but mostly dry already and he cocked his head slightly.

“I’m sorry for the disruption I caused earlier. It was not my intention to make things escalate to such a degree,” Legolas whispered and Elrond blinked slowly before releasing a long drawn out sigh, motioning for the blonde to join him and he did, rolling up the long black sleeves of his shirt and moving to the cutting board, taking up the knife and beginning to cut the brussel sprouts Elrond had been formerly working on.

“Do not think it was your fault. It would have happened regardless of whether you had been here or not, probably much sooner than it did. You managed to keep everyone calm for a longer period of time than they would have had you not been here.” Elrond soothed as he took up his own knife, pulling out another cutting board and setting to work on cutting the mushrooms with practiced ease. The cutting off the male next to him stopped and when Elrond glanced over, he saw slender fingers were gripping the counter edge and Legolas’s head was bowed forward, blonde locks falling over his face like a veil.

“I still should not have let my emotions get the better of me. I fear I have upset your family greatly. Forgive me…” the words were soft, but held a sincerity that could make anyone’s heart break and Elrond blinked slowly, eyes widened a touch at the utter politeness of the male before he shook his head a bit, setting down his own knife as well and washing his hands, drying them off with a paper towel.

“There is nothing to forgive, Legolas. Now, I’m going to see if I can at least clean up some of the mess my children have made. Do not think it is your fault,” a gentle hand was placed upon a slim shoulder, but the brunette didn’t miss the slight flinch from the blonde as his arm moved quickly. “Do you think you can finish this up here?” A nod was his only response before he was off, down to Aragorn’s room and when he opened the door, he saw the male leaning over the balcony, dark brown locks being swept to the side by the biting winds of the outdoors and he wondered how the male managed to be out there in such weather without a coat.

“Legolas, is that you?”

“I am afraid not,” Elrond responded and he watched with an impassive expression as Aragorn whirled around to face him, his expression that of surprise, yet he said nothing, lips pursed into a thin, grim line, his expression falling into one of seriousness as Elrond closed the door behind himself and walked over to the younger brunette.

“What do you need?” Aragorn asked, his tone not unkind, but not overly polite. It held a certain bite to it that let you know he didn’t want to talk to you at that moment, but as he always did, Elrond brushed it off with nothing more than a simply shrug before he leaned over the balcony as Aragorn had previously, looking down at the cars. Aragorn slowly eased next to him, but before the brunette had a chance to relax, his face was met by a hand. Head snapping to the side, Aragorn blinked wide eyes in surprise before his gaze snapped to his father’s who was now facing him with a frown marring his face. Gently brushing his own fingers over his cheek, Aragorn looked at the man before him, the look questioning while mixed in with a glare.

“It doesn’t feel too good, being hit by your own flesh and blood, does it?” Elrond all but hissed and Aragorn frowned, straightening his slightly bent position with a soft huff as he gingerly moved his jaw before finally focusing his gaze upon his father.

“There’s a severe difference in being hit by your brother and being hit by your _father.”_ The words were bit out with venom as Aragorn moved a step away as a seemingly precautionary measure. “One of them you care about a lot more than the other.”

“You had no right to slap her!”

“I had every right! She destroyed the property of someone who has given me more joy than any of her efforts had recently! You have no idea what she destroyed inside of him by ruining that sketchbook. He was in utter hysterics when he couldn’t find it and he cried— _cried—_ once he saw what that devil of a sister did to it!”

“Do not call her that! She believes something is wrong with you and I’m beginning to believe it too,” Elrond yelled back at his fuming son and quickly smothered the sudden spark of guilt that flare through him at the sight of Aragorn’s surprised and hurt face at his words. “After you moved away, we barely heard a word from you—not one. I don’t know what you do for a living, half of the time I wonder if something’s happened, if you’re in trouble with the police, if you’re eating well enough. Eight years is far too long a time to have been away from me and yet I had to survive throughout those years with nothing more than the mere telling Arwen could tell me from the few times she saw you.” Elrond’s expression turned sullen and Aragorn looked like he had been slapped again, eyes wide as his father rubbed his temples slowly as if trying to stave off a forming headache which was exactly what the older brunette was trying to do.

“What does that have to do with this?”

“It has everything to do with this! Not once has Arwen ever returned from meeting you with a smile on her face as one should expect after seeing her brother after quite a long time. No, she’d return with a look on concern on her face from meeting you and tell me that you were fine, but recently, her words have been that of how she thought something was wrong with you mentally, but she would not reveal what and now I am afraid that I see it.”

“See what?”

“What she thought was wrong with you…” Elrond’s figure slowly slumped itself into the chair on the balcony and he crossed his arms in a feeble attempt to keep the cold away and to maintain the small amount of heat he still felt. “You’re afraid to love, Aragorn, and it shows.”

“I,” Aragorn began softly as he turned away, moving closer to the railing and leaning over it, looking down at the crowded streets and roads with a look of pure disinterest, “do not want to love. I have watched people crumble under its pressure, have seen people become nothing more than mere shells of their former selves once that love had been ripped away from them. I have seen even the strongest of men wither and die over it. I do not wish to experience that,” Aragorn whispered, voice barely audible and if it wasn’t for the wind carrying the brunette’s voice over, then, Elrond would have assumed he had not spoken at all. “Is that such a fault? To not desire to experience such things because of one person—is that such a problem?” Aragorn asked softly and it took Elrond a moment to realize the male’s shoulders were shaking and that his grip on the railing was tight. “I admit, my actions were wrong and I should not have slapped here, but,” the young male drew in a shaky breath, eyes glimmering with unshed tears, “I thought she understood. I spoke to her once about it before when she asked me and she said that I was entitled to my own opinion upon the matter and that she would not judge me for it, and yet…” the rest of the sentence was left unsaid and Elrond could follow very clearly with what the male meant.

Rising from his seat, the taller male walked silently towards his youngest son, turning the brunette around and enveloping him in a hug, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before rubbing the small of the brunette’s back as he let out a quiet sob and all he could do was try and comfort the crying man he now held. Aragorn had never been one to cry easily, but Elrond could tell now that this had been going on for quite some time now and that it had taken its toll on the brunette since the beginning. “It’s alright. I’ll talk to her.” Elrond pulled back, wiping away Aragorn’s tears gently with strong, but gentle hand. “You were in the wrong, though, and you should have explained your reason to your sister—maybe then she would have understood better. I’m not saying she wasn’t wrong either, but you have to understand that you were as well.”

“I understand. I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright, don’t cry anymore,” Elrond cooed softly, smoothing his hand through dark locks and finding, to his surprise, no knots. “Have you changed so much that you actually brush your hair now?”

“What?” Aragorn blinked in surprise and reached his hand up, touching his hair with a look of surprise in his wet eyes. “It hasn’t knotted yet? He has some magical touch, I swear,” Aragorn whispered before smiling at his father, one of those smile the brunette didn’t recall seeing since the male before him was but a lad. “Legolas brushed it. Normally it’s a huge mess, but he said that since it has been so long since we’ve last seen each other, my appearance should portray that you don’t have worry about me because even though the majority of the time I don’t look it, I’m doing pretty well in life and you shouldn’t concern yourself with thinking something is wrong.”

“He’s a wise boy, that Legolas,” Elrond mused before pressed a soft kiss upon the male’s forehead. “It’s good to have you back and thank you for confiding in me enough to tell me your reason for not believing in love and the only thing I can tell you, really, is just not to let fear control your heart. There are good people in this world and sometimes, they’re worth fighting for. If you hurt over it, then it means it’s real.” With those words, Elrond walked to the door, about to exit the room before pausing as Aragorn called his name.

“Where’s Legolas, by the way? He left earlier and has yet to come back.”

“He’s in the kitchen, finishing up cooking—”

“What? You left him alone in the kitchen? He could get hurt—he’s great a cooking, but he can’t be left alone doing it,” Aragorn burst out as he bolted out of the room, running to the kitchen and the only thing Elrond heard was a thanks for his advice and for understanding before Aragorn was calling Legolas’s name and already asking if he was alright. Not bothering to listen further, he closed the door to Aragorn’s room before knocking on the door next to it.

There was a moment of silence and all Elrond heard was the soft click before a quiet voice called for him to come in and so he twisted the door knob and entered the room, gently closing the door behind him with a soft click. His eyes rested upon the only person in the room, watching dark locks sway with the soft breeze coming from the window where she sat upon a chair next to it. He could feel the cold through the fabric of his clothes as he walked over to her before placing a hand upon her shoulder gently.

“Why does he despise love, father? I do not think he has ever experienced it. Why must he look down upon those who so freely accept it with open arms in hopes of enjoying the happiness it brings?” Arwen’s blue eyes are filled with tears as she turns her head to gaze upon her father with such a distraught look that Elrond feels the slight urge to find Aragorn again and give him another good whack for it.

“His reason is not mine to tell, but try to understand him a bit,” Elrond soothed, slowly descending onto his knees in front of his daughter, looking up at her with warm eyes. “As Legolas said, his reasons are his own and as his family, we need not hear them, merely accept them.” Calloused fingers ran over a pale, smooth cheek, brushing away the tears that had started dripping already. “Now, tell me, darling,” Elrond whispered softly, his gaze fixated solely upon his daughter, “why did you ruin Legolas’s sketchbook?”

“Can you not see it? Since they walked through this door it’s been clear as day, father. Legolas is in love with Aragorn—he’s a stalker, most likely, that managed to talk his way into having Aragorn let him work with him. His sketchbook,” Arwen stood up, beginning to pace back and forth, “is filled with drawings of Aragorn. Every single one of them is of Aragorn and yet Aragorn so blindly trusts the man enough to even bring him here?”

“Arwen,” Elrond whispered softly, rising from his spot on the ground and the slim female immediately jumped into his open arms, sobbing into his chest and he felt his heart clench as he felt the quivering of her body.

“I just want my little brother to be safe and Legolas is a danger. They can’t be together. I-I thought that if I managed to chase Legolas off by saying Aragorn would never love him, he’d leave and Aragorn would be safe…” Arwen gasped out in between sobs, voice nearing a high shrill, displaying clearly her desperation to keep her brother safe from the ‘supposed’ threat.

“Every single drawing was of Aragorn?” Elrond repeated softly in the form of a question, wishing that it wouldn’t be confirmed, but the short nod from Arwen sent his stomach dropping and he tightened his hold on her shoulders. “Then, if Legolas is a threat to him, we shall see to it that he is removed from Aragorn’s life. I do not want my son in danger.”

Arwen pulled back from the embrace, looking up at her father. “Really,” she questioned softly, cocking her head to the side slightly as he frantically wiped away her tears.

“Really… No son of mind is going to be friends with a stalker. But, I fear, that if what Elladan and Elrohir guessed is true, then we might already be too late. Aragorn could already be in love with Legolas.”

“But he has yet to realize it, father, we still have time.”

“You are right,” Elrond whispered, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss atop her head, pulling back with a small smile. “Our job must begin now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was chapter nine. Once again, I'm sorry it's so short--and I'm sorry it's so late. I can't make any promises of how soon I'll be able to update this story, but I'll try my best to update it as much as I can! Thank you for reading and I hope you'll stick through this story with me till the end!


	10. Oh God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Omg, I'm so sorry for this like supper late update. I have midterms coming up and I also have other tests because my teachers think it's a brilliant idea to suddenly give us all these tests when we have to study for midterms. I swear, they don't think much. Um, I also finally finished recovering from a concussion, so hurray for that! I just want to thank every one that has commented and everyone who has given me kudos and everyone who has read this story and is still sticking with me despite the suddenly slow updates. I'm really sorry about that and I will try to update more, but I can't make any promises. Um, guess what, guys? This story is getting translated into Chinese by himiko which is really cool, in my opinion. I didn't think this story would be popular enough for people to want to translate it. So, yay for that! Um, once again, I'm really sorry about the late update and I hope you'll continue to read this despite it all. Also, everyone say hi to my beta! She's awesome. Her name is Kasandwich and she has been fixing up all my chapters because my grammar is god awful. So, send her lots of love and thanks because otherwise my writing would be crap XD Now, without further ado--chapter ten!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> This chapter has been beta'd! Thank you, Kasandwich!

His legs quickly carried him to the kitchen, working on merely memory as he hurried to the area he had been told Legolas was at. Aragorn had seen Legolas cook once or twice, but after the first time he had learned never to let the male cook alone because he had a tendency to space out and get himself hurt whilst cooking(hurt himself whilst cooking). It was a very concerning habit of his and Aragorn hadn’t let Legolas cook alone since and he tried to refrain from letting the blonde do so at all.

“Legolas, are you there?” Aragorn called quietly once he was close enough to the kitchen to be heard without screaming. He let his feet carry him in, almost wanting to laugh a bit at the sight that he was greeted with. Legolas was sitting on top of the kitchen counter, the entire kitchen clean, several pots and pans on the rather large stove sat cooking, and he had a small knife in his hand, cutting away at an apple. The peels were forming a small mountain on his lap and he looked rather focused on the apple. Aragorn’s voice must have startled him however, because he jumped and the knife slipped from his grasp and he panicked, hand lashing out and grabbing it quickly.

“Are you okay?” Aragorn asked as he hurried over, gently taking the knife from Legolas who was looking at his thumb in disdain, blue eyes soft, pink lips pulled downward a bit in a pout, though Legolas would never admit to pouting. Aragorn smiled a bit and he took Legolas’s hand gently in his own. He rather enjoyed moments like this. In the amount of time he had known Legolas, he had found that when it was just them, the angelic blonde would let his guard down just a bit and he would get a glimpse at the small boy inside who seemed to not want to grow up and Aragorn was more than happy to not let him.

Looking at the blonde’s hand, Aragorn winced slightly at the sight of the crimson liquid running slowly down the soft, unmarred skin, and he got a small paper towel from its rack and wet it a bit before beginning to dab at the male’s wound gently with a lot more care than he normally would have possessed in such a situation had it been one of his sibling’s or one of his friends. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

“It’s quite alright. It was bound to happen at one point. My mind had been elsewhere.” The soft voice coming from above him made Aragorn look up for a moment and the white kitchen light seemed to light up the silvery locks, forming a halo around the male and the gentle look in the azure orbs with the matching smile made Aragorn’s heart speed up a bit and his cheeks heat in embarrassment. He couldn’t begin to compare to such beauty. Returning his eyes to his work, he got the first aid kit his father kept under the kitchen sink and open it up, taking a small bottle and unscrewing the lid, wetting the paper towel with the liquid before putting the bottle away once he had screwed the lid back on. Dabbing the cut, he froze and the soft moan of pain the left Legolas’s lips and when he glanced up, he immediately regretted it because he could feel himself flush as his insides twisted with familiar warmth that spread through him.

“May I ask where you mind was at?” Aragorn asked, voice sounding a bit breathless as he pressed the wet cloth against the cut again, his eyes never leaving Legolas’s face as he watched the blonde’s head tilt backwards a bit, exposing the milky neck and his eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the sight, his hips unconsciously pressing themselves against the edge of the kitchen counter for something, _anything,_ to relieve the pressure in his pants. It wasn’t that he liked to see Legolas in pain, but the soft gasps that would leave his lips, the way his eyes would flutter shut for a moment, the way his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“You,” was the single response he got and Aragorn’s eyes widened just a fraction and he pressed the wet paper towel against the wound against, twisting his thumb slightly to clean it more thoroughly and Legolas’s body jolted, slender legs jerking and wrapping around Aragorn’s waist, heels pressing into the small of his back a bit and suddenly the brunette was even more aware of the blonde that was now before him. The way the male’s body was practically pressed against his, the slender fingers that where twisting the back of his shirt slightly, the male’s face buried in the crook of his neck. _Oh God,_ his mind reeled and he could smell Legolas’s scent of fresh rain and moist grass, of the outdoors with an undertone scent of vanilla. His hips pressed harder against the kitchen counter, hoping that the rather obvious bulge in his pants was hidden from Legolas’s view well enough. He could feel the warm puffs of air against the skin of his neck and his hips moved slightly, only applying the barest amount of friction and he could feel the wet patch forming on his trousers from the soft sounds Legolas made as he continued to clean out the cut and he knew the blonde’s eyes were firmly squeezed shut because Legolas never liked looking at his own injuries.

“Aragorn,” Legolas whined softly, voice quiet like normal, but it sent a shiver running down the brunette’s spine and he wondered silently if the blonde knew what he was doing to him. Aragorn had known for a while that he was bisexual and he was still a regular man despite his lack of want for romance, so he still had urges and having such a beautiful male who seemed to never think he could do any wrong and was always by his side did nothing to help. The slight friction he got from his barely noticeable grinding against the kitchen counter sent small bursts of pleasure through him and coupled by Legolas’s close proximity and the soft sounds he was emitting, the pleasure seemed to increase tenfold.

“Yes?” He breathed out after a short moment of getting his voice back that had been lost at the unbelievably sexy whine that had departed from the blonde’s lips of _his name._

“It—it hurts,” he whined against, fingers tightening their grip on the back of the brunette’s t-shirt and Aragorn could feel the heat coiling in his stomach.

“It gets better, I promise. It only hurts at first,” Aragorn soothed quietly and could feel his climax building as he applied a bit of a cream upon the cut, Legolas’s moan of relief scrambling his mind completely and he felt the soft brush of pink lips against the skin of his neck and he could feel the wetness in his pants increasing as he released all over them and he flushed at the sensation, though he couldn’t bring himself to care. Placing the band-aid on the cut with fingers that were a bit more relaxed, Aragorn pressed a soft kiss to the thumb with a small smile. “There, all better, just like I promised,” Aragorn laughed, though the flush staining his cheeks refused to leave. Legolas smiled as he pulled back, looking at his thumb with a happy little grin. His cheeks were flushed equally pink and it stood out more against the milky skin compared to Aragorn’s tanner color.

“Thank you,” Legolas murmured softly, gaze averted downward before he blinked slowly. “Ah, sorry,” Legolas mumbled with a slightly alarmed gaze.

“What?”

“I got your pants all wet with the apple. I’m sorry.”

“What?” Aragorn’s eyes widened and he looked down at the wet patch on his pants and then the blonde’s face.

“See? Mine are wet, too. You have my sincerest apologies. I didn’t mean to get your pants covered in juice.” Legolas slipped off the counter after gathering the peels in his hands and walking to the trash to throw them out. Aragorn released a soft sigh of relief and smiled at the blonde.

“It’s alright, I don’t really mind. I can just wash it off later. Would you like some help?”

“Yes, please. I already made cheesecake and I have a carrot cake already in a pan and the ham is almost done, so then I can put the carrot cake in and I wanted to make apple pie also, so I needed to cut the apples. It’ll go by a lot faster with two,” Legolas said and picked up the bag of apples he had set aside. They silently got to work, both wearing small smiles on their faces and Aragorn conveniently didn’t notice that the apple from before had fallen into the sink when Aragorn entered the kitchen. “You’re not very quiet, by the way,” Legolas murmured after a few seconds, laughing a bit at Aragorn’s shocked and confused expression.

 

Meanwhile on the other side of the city, a blonde haired man was sitting calmly at his desk in his study, sipping leisurely from a glass of tea, coffee be damned. He couldn’t stand that stuff. It simply only managed to give him a headache, almost as much as his job did. He flipped through his paper work with a bored expression, setting down the glass and releasing a draw out sigh. His lover wouldn’t be home until tonight, he reminded himself and inwardly groaned at that.

“I’ve got an entire day and all the cooking’s done and the only thing I can manage to do is work?” The blonde ground out in annoyance, crystal blue eyes flashing in annoyance at himself and he slowly rose from his seat, picking up his cup and exiting his study, making a show of slamming the door in an attempt to soothe his mind. No more work. He was on a holiday—a holiday he couldn’t even bring himself to enjoy for the life of him. What was he supposed to do?

His lover was working still, despite it being Christmas and the apartment had been cleaned from top to bottom already, he had gone shopping, done every single chore possible, he was out of books to read and most of his work was finished, except for one single sheet of paper which he had just decided not to do.

A long, withering sigh was pulled from his lips as he moves to the kitchen to get a glass of water and as he sips languidly from the glass, he notices something that makes a smile appear on his lips. A container with food was sitting idly on the table next to a lunch bag that was supposed to be holding it and his smile widened even more so, a rare sight. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he checks the time and thanks his luck because his boredom would be cured, if only for a bit. Typing in the all too familiar number, he presses the phone to his ear. Four rings later, he heard the voice that made his heart speed up and cheeks flush despite his pride.

“Hey,” said the voice from the other line, sounding relieved that he had called and the blonde couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him.

“Hey, there, did you forget something?” the blonde questioned smoothly as he let a long slender finger trace the rim of his glass that was now sitting upon the kitchen counter.

“I don’t think I did. I mean, I have everything with me and I didn’t forget my lu—”

The cut off made him laugh and he could practically see the sudden realization dawning on the perfectly sculpted face of the man on the other line, his jaw dropping and eyes widening in realization, looking nothing like the brilliant doctor he was.

“Shit, I forgot my lunch! Can you bring it over?”

“Why do you think I called?” The blonde retorted, already heading to put on his shoes, phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as he slipped on his knee high leather boots.

“God, you’re an angel. What would I do without you?”

“Well, currently, you’d be going without anything to eat,” the blonde supplied helpfully as he stood now before the bathroom mirror, running a brush through silvery blonde locks, smiling the barest of smiles at his reflection, pale blue eyes twinkling with mirth as he heard the doctor on the other line laughing heartily and he stood for a moment, relishing in the sound before he moved to grab his coat.

“God, I love you,” the doctor whispered and the words made the blonde freeze in his movements of putting on his coat. A bright smile slowly appeared on his pink lips and his eyes crinkled a bit at the sides. _Oh God,_ no matter how often he heard those words, they never ceased to make him feel warm inside, though he always kept his reactions to a minimum around his lover since he refused to appear like a high school girl in front of the man he loved above all else. He was thirty-two, for Pete’s sake.

“I love you, too. Now, go wait by the entrance, I’ll be there soon,” he said, voice soft and gentle like the ocean waves on a sunny day, the water gently lapping at the sand.

“Alright, see you soon, Thranduil,” the doctor replied in an equally gentle tone, despite the slight gruffness of the voice. The blonde loved the way it sounded, the slightly rough texture of the man’s voice, though it was always kind, never harsh.

“See you soon, Bard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed that and please comment and let me know what you thought. I'm currently working on chapter eleven, but I can't promise when it'll be out because I also have a few one shots I'm working on for ff.net for Valentine's day and I intend to put up a one-shot here also for Valentine's day, but that's when my midterms are, so I've got a pretty full plate, but please know that I'll be trying my best to get that chapter out soon! Thank you all for reading and please comment!


	11. Kind of Like the Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! So, I'm really sorry for the lateness of this chapter. Same reason, basically. school and stuff and I finally took my midterms and I made some really stupid mistakes on my math one, so I've been a bit down about that lately since they might kick meet out of the class, then, if my grade drops since it's an advanced class. So, sorry for the extremely super duper late chapter! I didn't mean for it to be so late! Okay, so that's it, I think. Um, Happy Valentine's Day, guys! I know, I'm late, but I was a bit pre-occupied and that chapter wasn't done and stuff, so like, hehe--anyway! Here's chapter eleven!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All rights to their respectful owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> This chapter was beta'd by the wonderful Kasandwich! Thank you!

Chairs slid out as everyone slowly sat themselves at the table, eyes dropped to the side so as to avoid looking at anyone around them. The awkward silence that hung around them was enough to make even the happiest man uncomfortable. The food was silently placed on the table as the remaining dishes piled upon the smooth wooden surface before the last figure joined everyone in sitting down at the table. Six brunettes avoided each others’ gazes like the plague whilst the sole fair haired male sat silently in the already uncomfortable silence.

“I hope you guys enjoy the food, though I doubt the things I cooked are up to par with Elrond’s cooking, I hope it’ll do,” the blonde mumbled softly, hands folded neatly in his lap as he gazed at every single figure sitting at the table with a cool blue gaze. Six pairs of eyes fixed themselves onto him immediately for having broken the silence and the blonde cringed internally at being the center of attention, though he didn’t show it, his face remaining calm and kind.

“You know,” Elrond spoke suddenly, interrupting the thoughts of everyone around, “you remind me of someone I knew in school,” Elrond said and blue eyes trained themselves on the eldest of the group, a questioning look displayed upon his features, but Elrond didn’t elaborate any further, though a sad look crossed his features. “Alright, well, does anyone have anything they want to say?” Silence greeted the question and Elrond sighed in irritation. “If you guys don’t say anything, we’re not eating.” No one spoke still. “Alright, fine then, I’ll start.” Elrond leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he looked up at the ceiling silently for a few moments. “Something I’m sorry about in my life is not having been there for a friend who gravely needed my help,” Elrond murmured and Aragorn jerked slightly next to Legolas.

“You’re always there for us, though. How were you not there for that friend?”

“Let me continue,” Elrond ground out, though there was a slightly amused smile on his face at the confusion of his children. “He and I, we were best friends. I don’t think a day went by that he wasn’t there next to me. He was very calm and never let anything get to him, though he had a temper like no other when you managed to set him off.” Elrond’s expression was wistful as he stared up at the ceiling still, eyes closed, a slight frown upon his face as he thought back. “One day, we had been in the classroom and before class and we had been playing truth or dare and I had been a bit mad at him that day because he practically crushed any chances I had with a girl I liked back then. So, I dared him to jerk off on the teacher’s chair and that if she asked, he had to say exactly what he did. So, he did it. He never could manage to turn down a dare of mine.”

“You dared him to do what?” Elladan cried from across Aragorn and no one noticed the way Legolas had tensed during the story, keeping a calm expression, though his fists were clenched beneath the table where they laid in his lap.

“To jerk himself off on the teacher’s chair. He did it, as I have already said. Problem is, he had finished and that was when the teacher walked in and we ran to our seats extremely quickly.” Elrond’s eyes closed and his brow furrowed, expression one of regret. “She didn’t notice anything off because we covered it up pretty well and she just sat down in the chair, right where he had released.” Everyone cringed at the thought. “She didn’t notice anything, though, and that being the situation, we thought nothing of it. I mean, I probably should have noticed something, but I didn't and he was only nine. However,” there was a soft sigh as Elrond looked down at his lap and his lips pursed into a thin line, “about a month later, she left class temporarily. They said she had come down with something. A week after she left, she came back screaming at my friend, saying he had gotten her pregnant. I was older than him and I was at his school for a community service project for high school and it was pretty bad.”

A silence fell over the kitchen.

“It’s safe to say that those words managed to set him off and by the time the substitute teacher intervened, he had sent a chair through the window, hit a kid with a desk and screamed bloody murder at everyone. He got suspended because the principal was nice enough to understand his situation. It was never the same after that, though. Everyone was still pretty normal, but if you looked closely, you could see that they treated him differently. The teacher lost her job. The year ended and I don’t think I ever talked to him during the summer…”

Legolas was looking down at this point as well, nails digging into his palms, though his tension wasn’t noticeable.

“When he came back to school, he came with a little boy who you could tell would look exactly like him. No one talked to him anymore and even I distanced myself, which wasn't very hard since we were in different schools. You could tell he was having a hard time, though. The teacher left him with the kid and left, as far as I know. People say she left the country, others say she committed suicide. He was only ten, though, and already a father. In the end, I confronted him and told him to give the kid up for adoption. He had been disowned because of the whole ordeal and was left to fend for himself with a newborn kid. I thought that since everyone was ostracizing him, I would offer him the easiest way back into the social circle.”

“What did he do?” Eomer asked, softly, the first words he had spoken that night.

“He completely refused. I told him that he could suffer on his own, then. I left as soon as I said that. It’s safe to say, I had never seen him cry until that day…”

No one made a sound for a good moment, slowly processing the information. Aragorn cast a small look around the table, taking in the shocked expressions mixed with pity. Glancing to his right, Aragorn jolted slightly in surprise as he saw the look of pure agony on Legolas’s down turned face. Reaching over, he gently took Legolas’s hand in his own, feeling the soft skin against his palm, the warmth of the flesh. The blonde jerked slightly, turning his face to look at Aragorn who looked at him in silent worry. Those shining blue eyes looked at Aragorn, showing, unveiling the male’s thoughts and a small smile slipped upon pink lips as Legolas squeezed Aragorn’s hand reassuringly.

‘Hit close to home’ were the words Legolas mouthed at him silently and Aragorn nodded his head, wondering what part of the story had hit close to home, but he and Legolas had a silent agreement not to bother each other for information that they had not shared. If Legolas wanted to tell him, he would do so—most likely later, though, for the blonde wasn’t a fan of revealing things in front of people. Thinking deeply on everything he knew about Legolas, he let his hand continue to hold the other male’s softer one as he thought, finding himself smiling a bit when Legolas didn’t pull away. Legolas had always seemed to like physical contact, after all, even though he didn’t show it. It was like the blonde needed reassurance that whoever was there wasn’t going to leave him, like they weren’t going anywhere—that they weren’t going to abandon him… Maybe that was what had struck home inside the blonde beauty sitting next to him. The thought of a father abandoning their child was probably it.

“So, now does anyone have anything to share?” Elrond asked, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room not moments before, looking around at everyone at the table with a cocked eyebrow. There were still traces of regret in Elrond’s expression, but they were fading, like the past did.

Looking around the table, Aragorn sighed softly, seeing as no one was going to make the first move. Feeling a soft squeeze to his hand, he glanced over at Legolas to see the reassuring look in the blonde’s eyes that had the power to calm his nerves and make him feel all warm inside, like everything was going to be okay. “Arwen,” the female’s head jerked up at the sound of her name being called and she glared at Aragorn weakly, “I apologize for slapping you and for _my reaction to the news of your engagement_ ,” Aragorn began, stressing out the main problem at hand, even though he swore he didn’t do anything wrong. His reaction had been carefully neutral, though it had been a lot to take in. “And Eomer, welcome to the family.” Aragorn promptly then shut his mouth and sat silently, half sighing in exasperation mentally and half rejoicing that it was over—for him, at least.

Elrond gazed at his son in approval before he noticed the joint hands of his son and Legolas and he glanced at Arwen, remembering their previous conversation. “Legolas, may you please get some napkins? I just remembered that these guys eat pretty messily,” Elrond said and blue eyes met his own and he froze briefly at the startling familiarity. There was a slight nod before Legolas was rising, giving a last squeeze to Aragorn’s hand who looked so reluctant to let go, but did so, smiling at the blonde.

When Legolas left, Aragorn found himself looking at where the blonde exited and waiting rather impatiently for him to return. He honestly had no clue what got into him, but he found himself longing for the blonde’s presence. Maybe it was because they spent every single day together at practically all hours except for when they showered and when Aragorn went out for his morning coffee sometimes. Chewing on the inside of his cheek slightly, Aragorn looked down at his lap, counting down the seconds for Legolas to return and he was so absorbed in it that he didn’t hear Arwen speaking until a gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder and his head snapped up. Legolas was looking down at him with laughing blue eyes, an amused smile on his lips and Aragorn returned the small smile with a grin of his own.

“You should be paying attention, mister. Your sister has been trying to gain your attention for quite some time,” Legolas whispered as he sat back down in his seat after setting down the napkins. Aragorn blinked in surprise before turning to look at Arwen who looked beyond annoyed. Elladan and Elrohir seemed to find the situation amusing, though, and where hiding their laughs as best as possible, though it was clearly failing. Eomer just kind of watched in what seemed to be slight amusement, though he didn’t really show it too much. Elrond’s eyebrows were raised, eyes widened slightly as his lips parted slightly in a mock shocked expression that made the twins laugh out loud now, ceasing their attempts to keep quiet.

“I-I’m sorry. What was it that you were going to say?” Aragorn’s cheeks flushed a light red, not too noticeable upon his tan skin, but it was there and he could feel the heat rushing to his face as everyone laughed at this point as Arwen released a rather exasperated sigh.

“I was saying that I,” she shot a look at everyone so that they tried to mute their laughter to quiet chuckles, “accept your apology and apologize as well for my behavior. I may have overreacted.”

Aragorn wanted to scoff at her words. _‘May have overreacted’_ was total bull, in his opinion. She completely overreacted! But, he cast a small, unnoticeable, glance at Legolas and felt a calm sweep through him and he fixed a steady gaze on his sister, keeping his expression carefully neutral. “I accept your apology as well.”

Eyes turned to Elrond at this point and he looked a bit startled before smiling warmly at his children with a sense of pride. They were all hard-headed people, but Elrond knew they were all good people despite it all and he felt extremely proud that they managed to sort out their differences, even if it took a good smack—quite literally. “Alright, well, everyone—dig in!”

Dinner went smoothly, jokes being passed all around and such and everything was pretty calm after dinner was done. Legolas had spent most of the time in the kitchen, Aragorn had noted, and couldn’t help but feel a bit bad because the blonde seemed so out of place amongst his family despite the fact that Aragorn would have Legolas nowhere other than his side. Excusing himself silently after Legolas had served the desserts, Aragorn walked to the kitchen where said blonde was silently sipping a glass of water.

“Legolas,” the brunette called softly, his voice low and sweet with a certain fondness that Aragorn couldn’t quite place where it came from, though he was not objecting. The fair male looked at him in response, raising a questioning eyebrow, blue eyes portraying his confusion clearly, a fact Aragorn thoroughly enjoyed about Legolas. The blonde could always be carefully blank, but he seemed to show a lot more emotion around Aragorn than anyone else and those twin pools of blue always showed the truth, no matter what. “Why do you spend your time in the shadows? Come and join us, please,” Aragorn murmured softly as he walked over to the blonde, gently placing a hand on the slim shoulder, feeing the hidden strength the lithe body contained.

“I cannot help but feel as if I am intruding and Elrond and Arwen seem to agree,” Legolas mumbled, looking away, taking another sip of the clear liquid in his cup and Aragorn couldn’t help himself and wrapped his arms around the blonde, holding him close gently. The wave of affection came unexpectedly and he couldn’t help but be a bit surprised himself, but he soon found himself relaxing as Legolas melted into his hold after setting the glass down.

“Do not worry over my family, my friend. I wish you to be there, next to me. Is that not enough?”

“It warms my heart to know so… I would join, but I do not wish to start off on the wrong foot with your family,” Legolas whispered and if it weren’t for their close proximity, Aragorn would have risked not hearing the soft words and he held the blonde slightly tighter, feeling slim arms slip around his waist and silky blonde locks against his cheek as the blonde nuzzled close.

“I understand. Would you rather stay in our bedroom? I can bring you something to eat once everyone’s heading to bed. You haven’t eaten much—well, less than usual.” The brunette pulled back slightly as he felt the slight nod against his neck and he smiled softly at the blonde who returned the smile with one of his own that reminded Aragorn of the sun and the sky and the snow and he felt like he was gazing upon an angel and who could blame him? “Alright, go on ahead, then.”

Once Legolas had gone down the hall to go to their bedroom, Aragorn returned to the dining room, feeling a bit sad that Legolas didn’t feel welcomed around his family, but knowing there was nothing he could to change that. Sitting back down, he chatted with his family and his father asked how was work and Aragorn could only shrug and say it was good and Arwen shot him a knowing look.

“I want to see your apartment,” Elrond suddenly announced and Aragorn jolted in surprise and choked on his forkful of apple pie—the one he made with Legolas.

“What?”

“I want to see your apartment. I haven’t seen it yet,” Elrond repeated, smiling at his son like such a request was normal and perhaps it was, but Aragorn had certainly not been expecting it.

“Um, sure, I guess. You have to tell me a date and time, though,” Aragorn responded hesitantly.

“How about after Bilbo’s New Year’s party? We can all go to your house afterwards and check it out,” Elrond suggested with another smile and Aragorn nodded slowly in agreement. After that the conversation was turned away around from him and Aragorn put a piece of each of the desserts on his plate, grabbed two forks and left the table silently, no one noticing him leaving. Walking to his bedroom quietly, he opened the door softly to see Legolas sitting on the bed, looking at the balcony. His knees were pulled to his chest and he looked so small sitting there on the sheets, blonde hair falling over his shoulders softly, pale legs catching the glow of the city lights and bare shoulders glimmering.

_God, he really is beautiful…_

Aragorn jolted himself out of the line of thought, walking closer and setting the plate down on the bedside table along with the forks before sitting down on the mattress. Legolas didn’t look at him, though Aragorn knew that the blonde knew he was there. Reaching out, he placed a calloused hand on the soft skin of Legolas’s knee and smiled as blue eyes turned to meet brown.

“You okay?” he whispered, feeling as if he spoke any louder, it would break the peaceful atmosphere.

“Yeah, ‘m fine…” Legolas mumbled as he shifted in his spot, stretching his legs out in front of him, causing Aragorn’s hand to slip up the smooth skin of the pale thigh and the brunette’s heart lurched and he was pretty positive that wasn’t the only thing that lurched.

“Do you want some?” Aragorn motioned to the plate he had set aside and Legolas blinked before nodding his head slightly, his face rather blank, though that was normal. Legolas got uncomfortable easily around new people. He knew when to talk to a person he felt uncomfortable around, but he otherwise kept rather to himself and although Legolas wasn’t uncomfortable around Aragorn, it was clear he was uncomfortable around his family. It took the blonde a long time to warm up to Gimli, even if he was rather polite since the beginning.

Picking up the plate, he sat it on the bed and handed Legolas one of the forks, watching as the smaller male took a bit of the cheesecake he made, smiling a bit at the taste. “My father wants to come over to our apartment.” He didn’t miss the small smile that graced Legolas’s lips at the word ‘our’. “After Bilbo’s party, they want to come—all of them,” Aragorn continued, leaning back slightly, his gaze never leaving Legolas’s face.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Well, no, it’s just,” Aragorn trailed off, gaze traveling up the wall and to the ceiling, raking over the paint, “I don’t want him to impose on my life too much. He tends to be a bit overprotective. I’ve forgotten than while I’ve been away, but now…” A soft silence blanketed them, but it was not tense or angered, but rather understanding and Aragorn relished in it, felt himself relaxing. “I love my father, but I do not wish for him to concern himself in my affairs when everything is fine. He will only stress himself out.”

“I think,” Legolas began, setting down his fork on the edge of the plate so as to not dirty the bed sheets, “that he feels lonely.” At the questioning look from Aragorn, Legolas hurriedly moved to elaborate. “I mean, you only have your father, correct? I’ve not seen another his age around, so I assume he’s an only parent. He has many children—five Aragorn. You’ve all moved out, though, have you not?—you before the rest. I think that he feels rather lonely after having the house full of people.”

A thoughtful look crossed over Aragorn’s face and he nodded his head slowly. It made sense. Hearing a slight yawn from next to him, he looked over and laughed lightly. It was rare he got to see Legolas’s sleepy expression. He normally fell asleep before the stunningly attractive male did. “Tired?” he asked, thought he answer was obvious. Leaning back, he spread his arms as a silent invitation for the other male to come.

There was some shifting and a few seconds later he felt the light weight of Legolas as the blonde solely curled up against him, half on top of him and half on the bed. Aragorn’s arm wrapped around the slim waist, holding loosely and he heard Legolas’s breath even out slowly, signaling that the blonde had fallen asleep. Unable to help the smile that slipped its way onto his lips, Aragorn looked down at the golden haired male and ran a hand through said tresses of silvery gold, noticing silently that Legolas was only wearing his boxers. No wonder he had been able to see so much skin.

 _He really is beautiful_ , Aragorn mused silently. _Kind of like the ocean. Never know what he’ll do next._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was chapter eleven and I sincerely hope you guys enjoyed it and hopefully I'll get the next chapter out way faster this time, but no promises--keep your fingers crossed! Thank you guys for reading and commenting and leaving kudos. It makes me really happy and I'm really grateful for it. Hopefully you guys will stick with me through this all! Thank you!!


	12. It's A Kind Hearts Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey , guys! I'm sorry for that horridly long wait. I was working on this chapter during my spare time, but I'm really not a fast typer and shit went down here in my family, plus my beta go sick and such and it was just chaos. So, this is really late and once again I am sincerely sorry about that! I am working on chapter thirteen right now, so hopefully that will be up faster than this was. Without further ado, chapter twelve!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All rights tot heir respective owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> This chapter is unbeta'd due to the aforementioned fact of my beta being sick and she was a bit busy. Everyone, please keep her in your thoughts that she gets better soon! She's neen under quite some stress, so send her lots of good vibes.

When morning came, Aragorn felt as if he had slept for years and he slowly cracked his eyes open to look down at the person lying on top of him. Legolas was very obviously awake, not even bothering to hide it as his fingers played with Aragorn’s shirt and said brunette squeezed the slim waist slightly to gain the blonde’s attention.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Legolas questioned softly as he slowly moved out of the embrace and Aragorn let his arm slide away from the waist it was wrapped around, both moving rather reluctantly away from each others warmth. Aragorn pushed himself up into a sitting position, arms stretching above his head and he released a soft groan of relief as his muscles loosened.

“No, you didn’t,” Aragorn replied after a moment as he slowly worked the kinks out of his body that he had gained while sleeping. Glancing to the bedside table, he cocked an eyebrow as he realized the plate from last night was empty. “Did you finish that?” Aragorn looked at Legolas with a cocked eyebrow, smiling softly in amusement as the blonde gave a sheepish smile and slowly nodded his head.

“I ended up waking about an hour after we fell asleep due to hunger, so I ate the rest, though it took me a bit, admittedly,” Legolas mumbled and Aragorn tried to stifle a laugh because the male was making it seem like he had done something wrong and had to explain himself, as if he was on trial.

“I’m glad you ate something, at least,” Aragorn finally said once he had managed to recompose himself. Reaching his hand out, Aragorn brushed away a wayward strand of hair out of Legolas’s face, a soft smile rising onto his lips to match Legolas’s. Tucking the strand behind a pointed ear, Aragorn slowly retracted his hand, watching the soft blush that crept up the pale neck.

“Um,” Legolas’s head tilted downwards slightly and he rubbed the back of his neck with a pale hand, “do you want to shower first or should I?” Legolas asked softly, cocking an eyebrow. Thinking the words over, Aragorn smiled, leaning back and laying down once more on the bed.

“You can take one first, if you’d like. I want to rest a bit more.”

“Alright,” was Legolas’s quiet response to Aragorn’s words and the brunette felt the blonde shift off of the bed, moving silently around the room, his bare feet scarcely making a sound and the older male couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Ah, Aragorn, I must ask you a question before you doze off,” Legolas whispered and Aragorn wondered for a brief moment, his head lifting to look at the general direction Legolas was situated, why the blonde was whispering before he remembered that it was probably five in the morning—far too early for anyone else to be awake.

“Yes?” Aragorn’s lids slowly lifted and his eyes widened just a fraction at the sight of the blonde male before him. A pale hand was holding his tooth brush, soap, towel, and hairbrush whilst the other was running through silver locks of shimmering gold. The soft brush of the blond hair on pale, slender shoulders drew Aragorn’s eyes quickly further downward to the rest of the slender body, clad in only a soft, tight pair of black briefs that hugged the male before him in ways too sinfully delicious for the innocent look placed on Legolas’s face.

“Do you still have the extra pieces of paper I gave you, just in case I forgot my sketch pad?”

“Hm?” Aragorn’s mind, released from his drunken state, rushed to comprehend the sentence spoken and when he had managed to process it correctly, Legolas was wearing a concerned look. “Oh, yes, I do!” Aragorn scrambled to respond accurately and mentally winced at how loud his voice seemed in the silence.

“Ah, that’s a relief. I was supposed to get the new scene’s drawing done, but since my sketchbook was put in a less that workable state, I have been unable to do so.”

“That’s quite alright, Legolas. Do not worry over such things. Feel free to move at your own pace.”

Legolas’s blonde brows furrowed and he crouched down next to the bed, looking at Aragorn with such a serious and concerned expression that it rattled the brunette deep inside his core. “You’re deadline is coming much faster than you think, my friend. I do not wish for you to trouble yourself with such thoughts since you’ve been getting things done rather quickly, however, I would be grateful if you would take this a bit more seriously. Your editor will eventually get over his amorous mood with his new wife and will begin to pay more attention to your work as he should and it would be bad if you were late for that deadline.” Legolas’s expression softened a bit as he saw the sudden worried look cross Aragorn’s face as realization seemed to hit. “You deadline is not for a month and we’re already ahead of schedule, but I do not wish for you to be late to it due to my inability to finish my work.”

Aragorn’s own expression softened from his formerly bewildered look and he unconsciously leaned forward a bit, making the gap between their faces less noticeable. “Do not trouble your mind needlessly with these things either, Legolas. We’ll make it to the deadline on time, maybe even early. If it’ll ease your mind, though,” Aragorn smiled a bit, “the papers are in my bag. You’ll be able to finish the work after your shower. Is that alright?”

The smile that lit up Legolas’s face was small, but bright and genuine and that was all Aragorn could ask for and he found himself enraptured by it, drowning it twin pools of blue and being warmed from the inside out by that radiant smile.

“That’s perfect. Thank you!”

Aragorn could have sworn that he saw those pale cheeks flush a light red before the blonde was straightening; leaving Aragorn with the briefest brushes of blonde hair against his forehead that sent his heart rate sky-rocketing. “Perfect…” Aragorn murmured, though for a different reason than Legolas thought as the blonde gave him another smile before exiting the room. Lying on the bed, still in a sort of trance, Aragorn couldn’t stop the goofy smile that seemed to appear on his lips of its own volition, his thoughts straying to the war feeling in chest and Legolas’s smile.

 _He’s your roommate, your employee, one of the greatest friends you’ve ever had—why are you feeling like this?_ Aragorn’s mind yelled at him and brown brows furrowed as he thought silently. _Why_ was he feeling this way? It didn’t make any sense. Aragorn knew what this feeling was; the only problem was that he didn’t know _why_ he was feeling like that towards _Legolas_ , his friend, partner in crime, artist, employee, and many other things. It was wrong. But if it was wrong, then, why did he feel like this? IT was as if he was some middle school girl in love with her older sister’s boyfriend. It was wrong.

“ _Oh god…_ ” Aragorn groaned, head thumping against the mattress as he ran a hand tiredly over his face. He could hear the soft sound of the water running in the bathroom as Legolas showered and the brunette quickly had to shut down the train of thought that was leading him to images he refused to have in his head at that moment. Sitting up, he looked around before rising from the bed. Noting silently that they had slept on top of the covers, Aragorn moved about the room, packing their stuff silently since they would be heading home that day, though obviously not yet since Aragorn always left Elrond’s house rather late.

He wouldn’t think about this now, he decided. After all, he didn’t believe in things like having a crush and such. He wouldn’t act on it. It was just bad news and even Legolas agreed with him, so why put the blonde through something like that? Just having finished zipping up the one suitcase they were both sharing, the door opened, revealing Legolas, clad in a pair of simple denim jeans and a light blue t-shirt on top and a grey hooded sweater on top.

“You can go in now, if you want,” Legolas said, shooting Aragorn a warm look as he walked in, laying his towel down to the side to dry before sitting on the bed. “Did you manage to rest a bit longer?” Legolas questioned as Aragorn moved to get the paper Legolas had asked for before.

“No, I didn’t really feel tired, honestly. The sleep kind of left, so I just tidied up.” The brunette held out one of the sheets of paper from Legolas’s sketchpad along with a pencil and the blonde smiled gratefully as he took them, pale fingers gripping the sheet gently with a care one normally would not see directed towards a simple piece of paper. Legolas nodded his head in silent acknowledgement as he grabbed a clipboard he brought along just in case and set about drawing. Smiling softly at the look of concentration that crossed the blonde’s face, Aragorn grabbed his own towel and left the room to shower.

They ended up sitting on the bed side by side once Aragorn had returned from his shower and Legolas was hard at work while Aragorn was lazily typing away, not wanting to reach the part where he would need Legolas’s drawing so as to not rush the artist. It was rather silent while they worked; the buzzing life of the city muted by closed windows and soft breathing along with the clicking of keys and scratches of pencil. Aragorn loved his morning like this, spending time with Legolas in mere silence, but still feeling a sense of comfort he hadn’t felt before.

“Your family doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

The simple sentence that left soft pink lips caught Aragorn off guard and he hit a few random keys on accident, fingers quickly lifting off the keyboard to avoid doing so again.

“What makes you say that? I mean, my sister admittedly is probably not fond of you, though I can’t imagine why—but my father likes you,” Aragorn said and he quickly erased the accidental letter before saving the document and setting his laptop to the side. Placing a gentle hand on the blonde’s shoulder to still his movements, Aragorn gently took the paper and pencil from slender fingers, setting those to the side as well.

“I don’t think he does, Aragorn,” was the mumbled words he received in response. The blonde head was tilted downward, golden tresses shielding the pale face in a silk curtain, but Aragorn could make out the very slightest bit of a quiver in the soft voice. Shifting them around, Aragorn sat propped up against the pillows comfortably with his legs spread a bit and he settled the blonde between them, holding him to his chest gently. Rough, calloused fingers stroked the soft strands of hair gently out of the blonde’s face and Aragorn was alarmed to find that his fingers came away damp when they accidentally brushed against a pale cheek.

Pretending not to notice, knowing Legolas didn’t like when people saw him when he was sad, he continued to stroke the blonde’s hair gently. It had been a battle to convince the blonde to come with him to his father’s house and it had been for this very reason and being proven right was probably taking its toll on Legolas. Admittedly, his entire family seemed a bit on edge around the blonde, but Aragorn had thought they had been getting along fine, except for last night.

It was just barely reaching half past six, the sun not even beginning to peek out over the horizon in the winter weather.

“ _Think nothing of the past.”_ The words left his lips without him being able to even process them and Aragorn mentally cursed, but his mouth seemed to not be connected to his brain at that moment for the words kept escaping his lips against his will. _“Things weren’t meant to last. And the sun rises again. Tough times will soon end.”_ His voice was rougher than Legolas’s and it was lower, but he still carried to tune and his voice was soft and thick like honey. _“Little leaf, now do not fret. Tough times will soon end. Do not worry over death, over what will come to pass. Do not strain your little heart. Do not waste away your tears…for times will get better, my dear. Little leaf, little leaf, do not fret…_ ”

The slender body shook against him and Aragorn looked down at the blonde head, feeling the dampness of tears on his shirt, but said nothing, continuing to hum the tune softly under his breath until Legolas had worn himself out crying and had fallen asleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and sorry that it was so terribly short. Hopefully chapter thirteen with be longer. They're finally leaving Elrond's house in the next chapter and guess who's finally making an appearance? Look forward to it! (I'm not going to tell you who--you have to guess). I'm sorry that the chapter is also really meh--since it's been so long, I decided to give you some fluff because my updates have been so slow. Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you'll continue to read this story despite my snails speed updates. Thank you!


	13. New Additions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone. I'm really sorry about my little unannounced hiatus. Stuff happened and I'm not going to delve to far into it, but the point is that I'm super sorry.
> 
> This chapter isn't as long as I wanted it to be, but I wanted to get it out already.
> 
> Here it is.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S  
> This chapter is unbeta'd. Sorry.

The argument that ensued in the living room, not three hours after Legolas fell asleep once more, was one to behold.

“Why are you going back so early?” Elrond all but roared, his eyebrows pulled together, lips pull back in something similar to a snarl like he was some vicious animal and not his father.

“Because Legolas doesn’t feel well and I have work to finish, unfortunately. Father, I am busy as well and I have dates I need to meet and Legolas needs to get back on his feet because I need him. He’s my partner,” Aragorn bit back, teeth gritting. It was partially a lie. He did have a deadline, but they were in a month and Legolas had so kindly pointed out and Legolas wasn’t exactly feeling ill. He was more tired and feeling a bit queasy from having eaten so much—at least a lot compared to what he was used to—and felt as if he would hurl at any given moment.

“Your partner in what way, Aragorn,” Arwen asked, voice rising to a shrill scream as she stood next to her father, hands on her hips. The twins and Eomer wisely stayed out of the fight, talking softly to each other about their schedules and what they were wearing to Bilbo’s party. Aragorn was once more reminded he needed to dress up and he hoped that the small man would show up to take Legolas’s measurements so that he could fit the blonde’s costume.

“Why does it matter?”

“He’s a stalker!”

“He’s a friend!”

“He’s a meddling little freak who is tearing us apart,” Arwen yelled and Aragorn prayed to the high heavens that Legolas wouldn’t wake up. He had left him sleeping in the other room and had placed headphones on the male’s ears with music playing at a medium volume before opening the window, knowing the fight was bound to happen. His family was tightly knit the majority of the time and didn’t take lightly to people coming in and supposedly ‘tearing them apart’.

“You would do well to hold your tongue about him. He’s loyal, kind, and one of the best people I have ever met, if not _the_ best.” Aragorn’s eyes were narrowed, grey eyes flashing and hard like steel.

“You are so _naïve,_ Aragorn. You saw his drawings, didn’t you? They were of you, all of them. Every single one that wasn’t of nature was of you,” Elrond stated, voice softening a bit, trying to bring down the volume of the argument, even if just slightly.

“He lived there, he saw me every day. What did you expect him to do? He has proved himself to be good and I have no reason to think otherwise.” Aragorn huffed angrily, nostrils flaring as he let out a hard breath through his nose.

“Oh, so he could be a thief, too. How are you not getting this, Aragorn? We just want the best for you,” Arwen whispered, following her father’s lead.

“We only wish for you to be fine,” Elrond followed. They hoped they had broken through, that Aragorn would see sense.

“I am fine with Legolas and it’s not your place to meddle even if I was not. Now, I am leaving in half an hour with Legolas and I hope not to hear one word spoken badly about him, nor to him. I had hoped you guys would be a bit more understanding. I’ll make sure to come alone next time and not stay for long either.”

That was the end of the argument and Aragorn turned on his heel sharply and left, walking down the hall and to the room with an air of finality around him. Upon entering the room, he found Legolas still sleeping soundly, completely knocked out and he couldn’t help but smile softly as he looked down at the blonde, bending down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of the golden head of hair before he could help himself. The soft clearing of a throat made him straighten abruptly and he blinked in surprise, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, as he found the twins standing in the doorway with soft, knowing smiles on their faces.

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Yeah, we know, but—”

“—you’re going to anyway.”

The twins grinned, finishing each other’s sentences as usual. Sidling up to him, the grabbed his by the shoulders and pulled him onto the balcony, shutting the door behind themselves.

“So, talk to us,” Elrohir instructed as he and his brother sat on the chairs and Aragorn paced along the length of the balcony. It was silent for a moment and Elrohir turned to his twin, holding up three fingers and slowly putting one down as he counted down from three. He hit zero.

“It’s just so annoying! I know he seems like a stalker at first if you only go by the drawings, but he’s a really sweet guy. His smile can light up a room; his hair is like silver gold, his eyes like two blue gems, formed from the glow of the brightest star. He’s honest and won’t tell you a lie; considerate to your emotions, tuned to your each and every thought so that he make act accordingly in a way that won’t stir your emotions.” Aragorn’s eyes were alight with emotion, the earlier rage wearing down to a soft, gentle glow before they lit up again in his anger at the thought of his father and sister. “I bring him here, to my family, after he fiercely opposed as if he knew that this would happen. I had assured him it wouldn’t and yet they prove me wrong, and him right, and I can’t even imagine how that must hurt. They never complained when I told them I had become friends with Merry and Pippin—the two biggest troublemakers they know of—and yet when I bring someone as sweet and innocent as Legolas, they act like he’s the person that assassinated the president.”

“Wait a minute,” Elladan yelled, standing up abruptly. “The president is dead?”

They decided to ignore him.

“I understand how you feel, Aragorn,” Elrohir soothed, placing a hand on Elladan’s shoulder to push his brother down to sit once more. “If it’s any consolation, we quite like him and we trust your judgment. He’s quite nice, too, and he shut dad up, so what can we say other than good things.” A toothy smile was directed at him. “Plus, if you love him, we like him even more.”

Aragorn spluttered, face burning red with shame and embarrassment, and looked down at his feet, scuffling slightly. “I-I’m not in love with him,” his voice became softer, biting his bottom lip uncertainly, “per se. At least, not yet…” he found himself mumbling the last words, face burning even more and he quickly rounded on his brothers, shoving them through the door of the balcony and out of the room. “You heard nothing,” he hissed before slamming the door. That proved to be a bad idea since Legolas startled awake, blinking sleepily around before looking surprised as the head phones slipped from his ears.

“Is he really dead?” Elladan wailed and Aragorn could hear Elrohir snickering like a child.

Legolas looked sleepily over at Aragorn, eyes still puffy from his previous crying, eyes rimmed red and Aragorn hurried forward, sitting down on the bed and holding out his arms. The blonde wobbled slightly as he crawled over, but he managed to flop down against the brunette’s chest, releasing a quiet puff of air as he shifted, nuzzling the strong next, feeling the slight graze of the beard against his forehead.

“We’re heading home now, okay? I have everything packed. Do you want me to carry you or do you think you can walk?”

Legolas answered with a series of incomprehensible gurgles of words before he sighed and pushed himself away, shifting to get off the bed and clumsily standing up, though even that looked graceful and Aragorn swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly feeling a bit too dry and his pants a bit too tight. Moving to stand up as well, subtly adjusting his pants, Aragorn gathered his bags before looking at Legolas, his offer still standing and blue eyes met his own grey drowsily as the blonde ran slender fingers through his hair before shuffling over and leaning on Aragorn, though not accepting the offer to be carried. His face was slightly puffy and Aragorn couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing that crying would tire the blonde out so much when nothing else seemed to.

Reaching out and wrapping his free arm around the blonde, he watched as Legolas limply held the handle of his small suitcase, his head drooped forward slightly and grey eyes scanned the blonde in worry, but the poor male just seemed more exhausted than anything.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm,” blue eyes shifted up blearily to blink at him before Legolas gave him a small nod, lips quirking upward just slightly into the barest of smile, as if he didn’t have energy to do anything more, “yeah, I’m fine, just tired.”

“Did you not sleep well last night?” Aragorn’s brow furrowed as he got a shake of the head in response.

“Not any night since we arrived, honestly…” the blonde admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to ruin your time with your family, though…”

They didn’t say anymore and without really thinking anything through, once again, Aragorn leaned down and pressed a light kiss to Legolas’s forehead as a sign of reassurance, not even realizing he did as he moved to open the door and led them both out of the room. Legolas’s face was flushed pink as they walked through the living room, Aragorn tossing a goodbye over his shoulder, bidding the twins a goodbye and giving a curt nod to Eomer. Arwen and Elrond were standing off to the side and although Elrond looked like he wanted to say something to Aragorn, he held back, settling for a slight smile instead which Aragorn returned tightly.

They didn’t linger and were soon on the street, Aragorn waving his hand to hail them a cab. Legolas was slightly more awake due to the cold air hitting his face and he had pulled his sweater tighter around himself, shielding himself from the wind that blew through the city, winding and twisting its way around tall, thick buildings.

A cab pulled over for them and Aragorn led the blonde over, placing their bags in the trunk before getting in with Legolas right behind him, almost immediately pulling the blonde closer so that he could resume his sleeping. Telling the cab driver the address, he gazed down silently as Legolas almost immediately resumed sleeping, eyes drooping shut and body curling against Aragorn’s almost instinctually like a cat.

The ride was silent for most of it. Legolas slept lightly and Aragorn didn’t dare to move or make a noise, so he stayed quiet and let the blonde male sleep. It was halfway through the ride that the blonde arose from his sleep, blue eyes clouded with sleep. He pushed away gently, though reluctantly, shivering almost immediately once outside of Aragorn’s warm grasp. Rubbing his eyes, the blonde fixed his hair, quickly becoming more conscious and he cast a side glance at Aragorn, giving him a weak smile.

“I’m sorry I made you leave so soon,” he mumbled, gaze shifting away as he once more rubbed his eyes to rid himself of the remaining hazes of sleep still lingering. They were the first words spoken to break the silence that had settled over them and Aragorn found his lips curling upward gently, not at all surprised. That was just like Legolas—to apologize for something that wasn’t his fault.

“It’s fine.” He didn’t bother telling him it wasn’t his fault. Legolas wouldn’t believe him.

“Did you get to tell them goodbye?”

The brunette’s mind rolled with all the ways he could answer that question, but he settled on simple and vague, nodding his head and pulling a smile onto his face that wasn’t entirely forced. “Yeah, I did.” His arms opened slightly and Legolas accepted the invitation almost too happily, but then again, Aragorn was probably a bit too happy to offer.

They lapsed into silence once more, Legolas’s head resting comfortably upon Aragorn’s strong shoulder, his eyes closed, and a small, blissful smile pulling the corners of his mouth up. The cab driver slowed down and pulled over once they reached their stop and they clambered out, wincing noticeably at the cold air compared to the heated interior of the cab. Taking their bags from the trunk, they began to approach their building when a rather loud ‘debate’ reached their ears and the blonde’s head jerked to the side.

 _“We lent you the money, now pay up.”_ One voice, male, stated, his voice sounding almost purposefully loud, like he wanted people to know he was there, just in case.

 _“We don’ got the money, though, so you’re goin’ to give us more time—if ya’know what’s good for ya,”_ another voice responded, yet another male, but his voice was gruffer, sounding like he had kind of given up on talking correctly.

They shared a look and pleading blue eyes met concerned grey and Aragorn conceded with a slight nod. They hurried to the doorman, asking him to hold their bags before moving quickly in the direction of the voices, the fight becoming louder as they drew closer and they could make out the muffled sounds of girls arguing on the side next to the men, their voice softer, yet just as hard.

Slowing as the voices became even louder, Legolas let Aragorn take his hand and they slowly inched closer. Some people had stopped also at the racket and were staring at an alley opening with confused expressions. Peeking around the corner, grey eyes widened slightly at the sight before they narrowed, brow furrowing in confusion like everyone else’s in the area. It looked like two teenagers, a girl and a boy with rather similar features, going against three older men and an older woman.

“We already said we don’t have it, so get lost,” one of the older men hissed, hands in tight fists. The other two men were no better with their tempers. They looked ready to launch themselves into a brawl.

“Ah, but the deadline was today, so we’re not going anywhere until you cough up. We want our money back and if you don’t have it today, you’re going to be paying _with interest._ ”

“We can’t pay with interest if we couldn’t get the money in the time you gave us.”

“You should have thought of that _before_ you decided to turn up empty handed,” the girl bit back and Legolas and Aragorn quickly moved into the alley at that moment. Legolas’s steps were light and silent and Aragorn found himself watching the slight sway of those hips as he moved.

“Excuse us, sirs, ma’am,” Legolas tugged on his wrist slightly and Aragorn let go with a sheepish smile that the blonde returned warmly before their attention was once more on the older people in front of them. “Sorry about the trouble, we’ll be going now. Just get the money by next week, okay?”

They didn’t wait for an answer.

Ignoring the angry protests of the teens, Aragorn grabbed them by the wrists and dragged them out of the alley and to the building. The doorman kindly told them their suitcases had been sent up and Aragorn and Legolas both thanked him profusely before dragging the still protesting teens into the elevator that was thankfully empty. Throwing them in none too gently, Aragorn immediately pulled Legolas close, just in case the two teens tried something.

“Names and ages, now,” he stated, tone firm, his arm subconsciously snaking its way around Legolas’s slim waist. The blonde didn’t seem to mind, though, and happily leaned into the touch.

“We didn’t ask for your help, you know,” the boy bit out and Aragorn tensed, eye narrowing.

“Names and ages, I won’t say it again.”

“Smaug and Tragu, ages fourteen, twins,” the girl hissed her hand tight on her apparent brother’s wrist.

“Well, you guys have got a lot of explaining to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was chapter 13. I know it wasn't all that interesting and I'm sorry. I hope I won't end up leaving so suddenly like that again. I hope you guys can forgive me and will continue reading. Thanks for all your support!


	14. Going Along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! So, I'll be disappearing for about a month to go visit family, so I'm really sorry that I won't be able to update. I'll be out of the country and my grandparents don't have wi-fi, so no updates. I'm really sorry about that.
> 
> I worked really long on this chapter because I wanted to get to introducing more of the characters since we're basically halfway/two-thirds of the way through the planned length for this fic, so here it is! This chapter is a bit longer than normal which I did on purpose because I'm going to be gone a month, so I might as well give you lots.
> 
> I'm sorry again and I hope you'll all continue to read and support me through this! Thanks.
> 
> Without further ado, chapter fourteen!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S.  
> This chapter is unbeta'd, unfortunately.

Neither of them were overly fond of the idea of bringing strangers into their penthouse, but it was best course of action for that moment. They couldn’t really have a conversation on an elevator other people were going to take. So, as the doors opened for the elevator, Aragorn let Legolas enter first before grabbing the hands of both kids and dragging them in.

“You know, this is kidnapping,” the female hissed, tugging on her wrists. Aragorn merely shot her a look, grey eyes narrowed, his jaw set in a look firm disinterest. He didn’t bother to respond and continued to tug the two through the forest inside their penthouse to the kitchen where Legolas already is. The blonde is sitting atop the kitchen counter, legs locked as the ankle and swinging just slightly, but it gives him a look of innocence that has Aragorn twitching in his pants.

Making the two sit is easy. It had been a struggle for a dreadful five seconds before Legolas offered food and they fell into the seats as heavy as lead. The blonde glanced at Aragorn for confirmation that it was okay and the brunette nodded.

“Order some for yourself as well, Legolas. Even if you don’t eat it now,” Aragorn advised, reaching out and pressing a gentle hand to the blonde’s hip, giving a small squeeze before pulling back. There was a nod given in return along with a small smile that lit up Aragorn’s world. As blonde left the kitchen with the cordless phone to call Bilbo’s restaurant for some Japanese food—four chicken teriyaki’s, fried rice, and vegetables, extra sauce on the meat—Aragorn restored his attention on the two kids before him.

“Where are your parents?” are the first words that happen to escape him. The twins exchange a look and Aragorn knows the answer already from that alone. He’s an author—being able to read people is a must for that occupation. “Alright, what orphanage, foster home, or whatever, are you guys in?”

“We left,” the male said quietly, looking down at his feet, hands folded in his lap in a false façade of calm, but Aragorn can see the knuckles turn white from how tightly they’re gripping each other.

“Which one are you?”

“I’m Tragu,” the male whispered and his eyes moved up, looking at Aragorn through his fringe.

“Why did you leave?” He crouched down in front of the male who adjusted his gaze so that he was looking the brunette in the eyes.

“We, um,” the male hesitated, biting his bottom lip and Aragorn noted how the male was carefully avoiding looking at his sister who seemed rather mad that he was saying anything to begin with, “we wanted money so that we could leave…”

“Did you not want to wait till someone adopted you?”                                                                               

“We have been adopted before, but they always send us back in the end. Th-the recent ones, they,” the boy cleared his throat and Aragorn felt his heart go out to the boy as he saw the misty eyes as the male blinked quickly in an attempt to rid himself of his tears, “wanted to take me only and not my sister and I don’t want to be separated from her. S-so we left.”

Legolas entered the kitchen again, walked over and moved over to the female—who Aragorn now knew as Smaug—and stood beside her. He didn’t move to touch her, kept his face carefully blank, and Aragorn watched as the girl’s tough exterior slowly broke, crumbling slowly before it was no more and her eyes were wet with unshed tears. She turned her face away as the first few fell before she ended up flinging herself at Legolas, wrapping her arms tightly around the blonde who let her, gently stroking her hair after a few seconds.

Aragorn stood up and reached out, carding his fingers through the male’s hair. Tragu leant into the touch, his own tears falling and he mimicked his sister’s actions, wrapping his arms around Aragorn’s torso. Strong fingers massaged the boy’s scalp, brushing through locks of hair, gentle caresses here and there, reassuring the boy.

“Legolas, why don’t you show them to the bathroom so that the two can wash up? I’ll get a change of clothes ready for them and wait for the food to arrive, alright?”

The blonde nodded and gently wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, hugging her close as they walked over to Tragu who accepted Legolas’s hand and followed, the three walking up the stairs and Aragorn couldn’t help but smile at the sight. The blonde looked like a mom as he softly cooed at the two sniveling kids, stroking their hair and talking softly about random things—how the bath looked, how it felt, how good the food would taste when they ate. The kids soaked it up, calming down and Aragorn was thrilled to see them relaxing, Smaug’s fire more subdued for the time being.

While Legolas showed them how the bath worked and giving them all they would need, Aragorn got the change of clothes together and handed it to the pair of twins. “Let us know when you’re done,” Aragorn called softly as he and the blonde walked back downstairs, shoulders brushing as they moved in silence, though it was comfortable, a soothing silence. “You were gone for awhile. What were you talking on the phone about?”

Blue eyes looked at him in confusion for a moment before they cleared up as the beautiful male caught up. “Your friend Bilbo said they were going to close up early and that he, someone named Thorin, and Gimli were going to head over here when Gimli delivers the food.” Azure orbs suddenly widened and he stopped. “I hope it was alright that I told them okay,” Legolas mumbled, shifting in his spot awkwardly. Aragorn laughed, taking Legolas’s hand in his own and tugging him along.

“It’s quite alright. I don’t mind. They would have shown up anyway, whether you had said yes or no.”

Legolas snorted in amusement as they moved through the maze of trees, Aragorn suddenly stopping and turning around to face Legolas, tugging the blonde close. There was a moment of silence as the two just stared at each other before Aragorn’s arms wrapped around the blonde’s waist. Slender arms wrapped around his neck in return and the two stood there in the silence and privacy of their little forest. The grass pressed against their bare feet, shoes abandoned by the elevator door upon first entering.

“I feel bad for them,” Aragorn murmured softly, face buried in the crook of Legolas’s neck, stubble grazing the pale skin as he talked. Legolas hummed in agreement, fingers moving through soft brown locks of hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp and Aragorn welcomed the sensations with open arms and a smile. “I kind of want to keep them.”

“They’re not pets…”

“I don’t mean like that. I mean, just keep them, and take care of them.”

“They’re probably being searched for,” Legolas reminded; voice soft, though Aragorn could see he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. The blue eyes were as honest as Legolas was and Aragorn could see that the blonde wanted to keep them too.

“They’re going to be split apart, though. And they always get sent back.”

“But we can’t keep them unless we adopt them.”

Aragorn tried to ignore how his insides felt warm and fuzzy when Legolas said ‘we’.

“Then, we will.” Aragorn pulled back, looking straight into Legolas’s eyes, the bright blue gems he adored so much. God, something was wrong with him.

“Have a trial period,” Legolas finally said, looking away and Aragorn saw the light pink blush staining his cheeks. “We’ve known them for an hour.”

“I knew you for five minutes.”

“But I’m an adult, same as you. I’m not permanently bound to you, Aragorn. You can throw me out whenever you want,” Legolas swallowed thickly, like it hurt him to even say it and it, truthfully, hurt Aragorn to hear it, “but they’re just kids, Aragorn. You adopt them then you have to understand that you can’t throw them out whenever you think you can’t do it anymore.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” Cerulean orbs met molten grey, almost hesitantly, blonde brows furrowed slightly. Aragorn raised a finger, pressing it between the two, smoothing out the wrinkles gently before his hand moved up and ran through Legolas’s hair, finally resting at his cheek, thumb smoothing over the soft skin.

“Because I’ve got you…”

It was a few minutes later that Aragorn finally agreed to the trial period and Legolas was swinging victoriously from the tree branch he was perched on. His knees were hooked over it, the rest of his body dangling upside down as he swung back and forth with a small smile pulling at his lips. Aragorn was standing in front of him, their faces at equal level and he grinned stupidly at the blonde.

“You have to get down, you know,” Aragorn mused, the sing song tone he used making Legolas giggle like a school girl, letting his hands reach out for Aragorn who grabbed them firmly. The blonde, in a display of flexibility the brunette hadn’t witnessed before, gripped the hands tight before flipping off from the branch, legs extended before twisting and somehow ending up on the brunette’s shoulders, holding Aragorn’s hands gently in his own once more.

“I got down.”

Gathering his bearings, Aragorn looked up and the blonde. “No, you didn’t. You got on me. That isn’t down.”

“You’re shorter than the branch.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Right,” Legolas drawled, bending his body forward so that his stomach is pressed against the back of Aragorn’s head and his face is in front of Aragorn’s, blonde hair falling around them like a curtain. Aragorn swallowed thickly, biting the inside of his cheek as he felt the twitch in his pants as the little him stirred to life.

“Oh come on, Legolas. Get off,” Aragorn whined playfully, wriggling his shoulders a bit and the blonde only laughed, that light lilting laugh that Aragorn loved to hear. He felt the blonde squirm and cursed his body for betraying him as his blood headed south. In a few seconds, Aragorn felt the weight disappear and Legolas was lightly dropping onto the grass behind him. Turning around after a beat of imagining Gimli naked to rid himself of his erection, Aragorn turned around, giving his blonde friend a grin. It was returned with a light smile. Voices from upstairs called their attention and Legolas and Aragorn quickly moved to the stairs.

Upon reaching the bathroom, they found Smaug and Tragu just closing the bathroom door, hair still wet, but not dripping everywhere, fortunately. Aragorn smiled at them kindly, motioning for them to follow them downstairs and the kids did so without question, holding each other’s hands tightly.

It was about twenty minutes later that Aragorn had finished telling the twins about how they could stay here if they liked for a few days and that if they did, they would have to sleep in the forest like they did or they would have to wait for Legolas and Aragorn to drag the brunette’s mattress down the stairs for them. They said they were fine sleeping in the forest. They didn’t explain the trial period or anything. They felt it was unneeded.

The elevator dinged open and they heard Gimli’s boisterous voice calling out to them and he could hear Bilbo and Thorin talking between each other.

“I’ll be right back,” Aragorn said as he was standing up and Legolas smiled up at him and nodded. Leaving the kitchen, Aragorn walked over to greet his friends, grunting as Bilbo barreled into him, squeezing him tight.

“Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you last. You never come around anymore and Frodo doesn’t know what’s become of you,” Bilbo spoke, looking up at Aragorn with bright eyes and a warm smile that Aragorn hadn’t realized he missed until that moment.

“Sorry for not coming around often. I’ve been busy with work and the like.”

“Oh yes, I understand. We all have our responsibilities. Now, as much as I want to talk to you, I would like to see that person you have living with you now. I have to take his measurements.”

“Ah, right. He’s in the kitchen.”

Bilbo smiled his thanks before rushing off through the trees, stumbling over a root from time to time.

“Quite the set-up you have,” Thorin grunted, deep chocolate eyes looking around at the towering trees, the green grass, and the array of lights on the ceiling.

“Yeah, Legolas made it. Him and Gimli, actually, the first day I had him here.” Aragorn shot the two a smile. “Come on in.” The three walked through the trees, Thorin casting his eyes about, checking out the rather realistic look trees and grass along with the paint job on the walls and ceiling. Moving through the wind of trees easily, they arrived at the kitchen where Bilbo was fluttering about Legolas, trying to get the male to stand up. Legolas, on his hand looked rather frightened, fingers gripping the seat tightly.

“Aragorn,” Legolas cried out once the brunette entered and he shot up from his seat, running to the male before anyone could even blink.

“Your friend is rather skittish, Aragorn,” Bilbo mused, looking at the two kids. “Are these two yours?” Bilbo’s eyes turned to Aragorn, a warm smile on his lips as Aragorn nodded dumbly, wrapping an arm around his blonde to calm him down. “Oh, they’re adorable. You must bring them to the party. It’ll be most fun.”

Thorin sighed slightly, his lips twitching like he was trying to force down a smile at his husband’s antics. “Did you tell the kid why you were here before assaulting him?”

“Assault—I did not assault him!” Bilbo cried indignantly and Thorin shot a pointed look at Legolas who was clutching the hem of Aragorn’s shirt tightly. The blonde really wasn’t comfortable with close contact. Bilbo followed his gaze and released a small sheepish laugh, running a hand through his slightly curled locks of hair. “I may have forgotten to mention it, but in my defense, I thought Aragorn told him.”

“H-he did,” Legolas mumbled weakly, fear gradually subsiding as the seconds passed. “I-I just forgot.”

“Oh, well, that happens. Come ‘ere, then, let me measure. I’ll be measuring you two in a second,” Bilbo said, warm gaze turning to Smaug and Tragu. “What are your names?”

“I’m Smaug. That’s my twin brother Tragu,” the small female replied, reaching over and grasping her brother’s hand. It was odd, having a room full of people, all looking different and having rather different personalities, but still seeming to get along well enough.

Aragorn turned his attention to Gimli as Bilbo instructed Thorin to come and help him. “Did you bring the food? They need to eat.” Aragorn gestured at the two kids, shooting them both a kind warm smile.

“Yup, it’s right here!”

 

Large hands pushed against a smooth chest, admiring the contrast between their skin tones, milky white against his tan skin. Leaning down, he let his lips trail over the skin, indulging in the breathy gasps the male beneath him released, the tightening of the abdominal muscles and slim fingers curled in brown tresses.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” he groaned softly, pressing hot open mouth kisses along the pale column of a neck, tongue tracing up before his lips met pink ones that were so kissable, so willing like the body underneath his own. His hips rocked downward, their mouths moving together, breathy moans interchanged between their locked lips.

“Please,” the blonde male whined softly, back arching slightly, their chests pressing flush together as he pulled back from the kiss, a string of saliva connected their wet mouths. He moved back, sitting back on his heels, looking down at the gorgeous body laying spread out beneath him.

“Do you want me, baby?” His voice was low and seductive, several octaves lower than normal. The blonde beneath him panted lightly, eyes glazed over, wet lips parted slightly, revealing the slightest hint of straight white teeth.

“You know I do,” the male groaned, back arching as he released a slightly needy moan. “Don’t push your luck, though. You’re lucky I agreed to let you tie me up.”

“You know you like it,” he whispered, leaning down so that their lips brushed lightly with every word he spoke. “You know you like laying underneath me,” he ran his hands up and down the male’s sides, fingers occasionally coming up to graze the sensitive nipple, “helpless,” he delivered a short nip to the jaw line, “desperate,” a sharp bite to the collar bone, “begging,” he soothed the bite with his tongue, “for me to get inside you already.”

“Oh god, _please…”_ was the whimpered response given in return and he grinned a feral grin, reaching a hand up and carding calloused fingers through silvery blonde locks.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you…I know what you need…”

 

“Honey, have you called Strider lately?” a sweet voice called from the kitchen and the male leant back in his chair, resting comfortably against the leather.

“No, I haven’t gotten around to it,” he admitted sheepishly as the door opened and his wife stood there with a confused frown on her face, arms crossed over her chest, hair pulled back in a bun, a few strands escaping it.

“Call the guy, Faramir. You’re his editor,” she chastised and he looked down, running his fingers through his hair and releasing a sigh, nodding his head. Her hips swayed slightly as she walked over, leaning down and pressing a soft, fluttering kiss to his forehead. “Send him a text at least after dinner. Tomorrow I expect you to call him, though.”

Tilting his head back, he pulled her down gently to press his lips to hers softly. “Will do, Eowyn,” he murmured softly, pulling back and giving her a dazzling smile that melted her heart completely and she found herself falling in love all over again. “So, is dinner ready?”

 

It was three days after they had let the twins stay at their apartment, December 29th, and they were all sitting in the forest, Smaug and Tragu playing card games and Legolas and Aragorn huddled close as they watched a video on the brunette’s laptop. It was nice, sitting around like this, the silence comfortable and the sense of belonging filling their hearts. It felt almost as if they were a real family.

Aragorn’s arm was casually slung around slim shoulders, thumb soothingly rubbing against the skin as they continued to watch the show on the computer. Legolas would laugh sometimes, nuzzling closer almost unconsciously and Aragorn’s entire attention was focused more on that then the show, all too happy to let the blonde be as close as he liked. It wasn’t uncommon for them to sit so close and be touching so constantly, but with his recently discovered _possible_ feelings, he felt a bit more nervous about it.

As the hours passed, they still hadn’t moved and probably wouldn’t have if the house phone hadn’t rung. Grunting softly at the sound, Aragorn patted the blonde’s shoulder slightly so that he moved away, standing up and putting the video on pause. Jogging through the trees expertly, a skill born from constantly chasing Legolas through the trees, he found the phone on the kitchen counter, still ringing.

“Hello?”

“ _Hey, Strider, it’s me, Faramir. How are you?”_

He jerked, standing a little bit straighter. His editor was calling? Brow furrowing, he leaned against the counter, crossing one leg over the other at the ankle. “I’ve been good. How about you?”

“ _I’ve been doing fine, thanks.”_ Silence filled the line for some moments before Faramir cleared his throat awkwardly, coughing slightly. “ _Um, listen, how’s the book coming along? Are you going to be able to make the deadline this time?”_

Aragorn repressed a snort, thinking back to how he was already ahead of schedule— _way ahead_ of schedule—and he only had Legolas to thank for that. The blonde’s drawing skills certainly helped him be able to describe the places better, adding more words than he had before and making him not have to add so many events just to fill the book up to the requested length. It was more organized and he could actually follow along now, rather than just writing words and hoping that was the end of it. “It’s going well, ahead of schedule even. I’ll make the deadline, no problem.”

_“Really?”_ Faramir sounded beyond relieved and Aragorn tried not to chuckle as the man sighed and he heard the muttered ‘thank god’. “ _That’s great news—_ brilliant _news!”_

“Yeah, it is,” Aragorn responded, a silly little smile playing on his lips as he thought about the blonde waiting for him in their little forest. “Listen, um, not to be rude, but if that’s all, I really should be going now.”

_“Oh, yeah, yeah—did I interrupt something?”_

“No, no, you’re fine. Have a nice day.”

_“Yeah, you too,”_ Faramir responded before the line went dead.

The brunette smiled and set the phone on the counter before turning and making his way through the trees. When he reached the spot they had been at earlier, he found Legolas lying on the ground with two twins lying on top of him, all three of them laughing.

“What’s going on here?” He boomed, trying to put on a stern face, but falling miserably as he saw Legolas shooting him a helpless look with two giggling teens on top of him. It was quite the sight.

“Nothing!” the two sang innocently while Legolas lay gasping beneath them and Aragorn tried to make his blood continue circulating instead of pooling in his groin. God, he was starting to hate his own dick right now.

“Oh, really?” He sneered, voice clearly colored in amusement. He leaned down and wiggled his fingers at the two. “I think there’s something you two aren’t telling me. If you don’t tell me by the count of three, I’ll make you talk.”

The two looked at each other worriedly, though their smiles were still on their faces.

“One,” he stepped closer and they tensed, “two,” he wiggled his fingers again, “three,” he launched, the two squealing as he pounced on top of them, fingers making quick work of their sides, tickling away and watching them squirm and twist, flailing to get away.

“Stop!” Smaug cried out in between giggles and Aragorn grinned, easing up slightly, though not stopping. “We’ll talk, we’ll talk.”

Sitting back on his heels, Aragorn grinned, releasing the twins he had held captive. They panted for breath before they suddenly darted away and he was left gaping after them. “What—” he gasped, brow furrowed, though a smile was unconsciously still on his lips. “Those scheming little brats,” he grumbled, shaking his head in amusement.

“Well, that was startlingly successful,” a voice said from beneath him and Aragorn blinked in surprise when he saw the pale body beneath his, blue eyes staring up at his own, swimming with mirth and he flushed, scrambling off and offering a hand. “Thanks,” Legolas grunted as he clambered to his feet, swaying unsteadily before regaining his balance a few seconds afterwards. Looking over at Aragorn, he shot him a smile. “Who was on the phone?” he asked as he began walking through their forest and Aragorn followed, eyes searching high and low for even the smallest glimpse of the two runaway kids.

“Faramir, my editor,” Aragorn replied, shoving his hands in his pockets as his bare feet pressed against the soft blades of grass. “He wanted to know if I would make the deadline or not.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“That we were ahead of schedule,” he replied, shooting the blonde a grin that was returned with a warm smile.

“Come on, let’s find those two.”

“Right behind you,” Aragorn replied, grinning brightly.

 

“You know what,” a low voice whispered, hugging the body next to his, pressing them close together. A soft hum was his response as the other male shifted slightly, tilting his had to glance at him, blue eyes hazy with question. “I think we need to go shopping again,” he mumbled, pressing a soft lingering kiss to a pale shoulder.

“Shopping?” the male grumbled, twisting in the embrace to look at the other male properly, blonde brow furrowed in confusion.

“Well, yeah, shopping. I mean, in the past week alone, you’ve torn quite a number of my shirts,” he teased, watching how a light pink covered high cheekbones and he chuckled softly, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to pink lips.

“That is not my fault,” the blonde huffed indignantly, eyes narrowing, but the brunette could see the mirth dancing in those twin pools of blue.

“Whatever you say, love… We’re going shopping still,” he stated firmly, watching the blonde sigh softly, lips pulling downward just a bit into a pout, though he knew the blonde would never admit to pouting. “We can go later, though. Right now I want to stay right here with you.”

Pale cheeks flushed pink. “You are by far the weirdest person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, Bard,” he grumbled, burrowing deep into the blankets, a soft smile tugging on his lips anyway as he felt his lover pressing closer, wrapping strong arms around him.

“Yeah, love you too, Thranduil…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was chapter fourteen. I hope you enjoyed it and once again, I am really sorry that I'm going to be gone a month again. (trust me when I tell you I don't want to go)
> 
> Wish me luck and hopefully I'll come back alive and in better shape than last time!
> 
> Till then, see you!
> 
> Feel free to give me kudos, subscribe, drop a review, whatever. It makes my day!


	15. Fine Price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I finally got this chapter finished!
> 
> Yes, everyone, I am finally back with a new chapter and I'm pretty happy with it. I was intending this chapter to be longer, but I really liked where it ended, so this chapter is actually a bit shorter than the other, but I think you'll like what happens in it anyway. I hope to get back into updating a bit more regularly, but school started and I'm in a few advanced classes (half of my classes, actually), so I might be getting a lot of homework. Either way, I'll make a serious effort to update more, no worries!
> 
> Anyway, you guys have waited a long time for this, so without further ado, chapter fifteen!
> 
> P.S.
> 
> This chapter is un-beta'd, unfortunately.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.

It was the 31st of December and Aragorn was practically begging Legolas at this point. He didn’t know why he was doing it since it was technically his place, he could make the decisions regarding it, but he felt the _need_ to have Legolas’s approval, his consent.

“It’s been practically a week, Legolas— _please_ , I’m begging you.”

Blue eyes stared into grey, looking so uncertain, yet hopeful and Aragorn knew all he needed was a push and Legolas would crumble. He knew the blonde wanted it, was more certain about it than he was about his own name.

“I don’t know, Aragorn…”

“You know that if we send them back, they’re not going to stay. They’ll end up on the streets, Legolas,” Aragorn murmured, reaching out and grasping pale hands gently, watching as blue eyes softened, the uncertainty showing even clearer than before. Pale fingers gripped his hands tightly, the blonde brow furrowed slightly, bottom lip being worried between his teeth. “They’ll starve, get sick, be beaten. Their bravado isn’t going to work. They’re just _kids_ , Legolas.” That was it; that was all Legolas seemed to need to hear before he was sighing and crumpling against Aragorn’s body, folding into him easily, letting Aragorn wrap his arms around him.

“Fine, but ask them first,” he mumbled, face buried in a strong shoulder as Aragorn rocked them gently from side to side as they stood there in the kitchen, the twins sleeping somewhere in the forest. It was a few minutes later that they finally decided to extract themselves from the embrace, though they were still standing close together, shoulders brushing slightly.

“Can we ask them now?” Aragorn asked, looking at Legolas like an eager child waiting for his parents to finish breakfast so that he could open his presents on Christmas. Legolas laughed lightly, grasping Aragorn’s hand and tugging him forward while placing a finger to his lips with the other. Aragorn’s mind short-circuited for a brief moment as his eyes immediately zeroed in on those pink lips that his mind had been dazedly dreaming of kissing.

“If they’re awake, then yes. But be quiet in case they aren’t,” he whispered and Aragorn nodded dumbly, mind still focused on those lips, so pink, so soft looking, so smooth, so _tempting_ —

“Alright,” Aragorn whispered back, snapping himself out of that train of thought and taking the lead so that Legolas wouldn’t see his erection straining in his sweats. His thoughts turned to watching two old men make out in hopes of ridding himself of his reaction and it worked mostly, but the warmth of Legolas’s hand holding his own didn’t let his cock soften completely and Aragorn bit back a groan of frustration. God, this was becoming a problem. Seriously, how was he supposed to survive living with this angelic being if he couldn’t control his urges like a grown ass man?

They made their way through the forest, careful to be quiet so as to not wake the two twins in case they were sleeping. When they finally encountered the two bodies, it was to see the two murmuring lowly to each other, hands linked as they both looked at the ceiling, but the gazes soon turned to them as they made their presence known.

“Hey, guys,” Aragorn said as he plopped himself on the ground next to them, releasing Legolas’s hand long enough to supposedly get comfortable and will the rest of his erection away. Legolas sat next to him and looked at the two children in front of them silently. “Um,” he glanced at the blonde for reassurance and received a small, warm smile in return and he returned it nervously and he might’ve relaxed a bit when Legolas moved closer, “so, we were talking and we wanted to ask you both if you…”

He paused. He had to pause. It was like he couldn’t get the words out. He was scared—scared of them saying no. Despite having known them for such a short amount of time, it hurt to think of them saying no, to think of them refusing. There was a gentle squeeze to his knee and his head snapped up, looking over at Legolas who had a soft smile on his face, expression soft and comforting and _safe._

“Do you want to live here,” two pairs of eyes widened, “with us,” they started to mist over, “together?” The tears spilled over their eyes and it was silent before a broken ‘yes’ rang out loud and clear and Aragorn was surprised to see that it was Smaug that had said it, eyes glimmering, her hand holding her brother’s tightly.

“Please—yes,” Tragu cried softly and Aragorn was once more reminded how true his words to Legolas were. They were just kids, despite their tough exterior, they were just kids. They needed people to long and care for them, nurture them, show them the good in the world and help them through the bad. He cast a glance at Legolas and the blonde was smiling softly, gently, and Aragorn really wanted to be nowhere but there, right in that moment, because he felt whole and happy and _good._

“Well, that’s great!” Aragorn cheered, pulling the two kids close in a bone crushing hug that they returned with equal fervor. Legolas was positively beaming at the sight in front of him and Aragorn shot the blonde a jubilant smile because this was what he wanted. Holding out a hand to the blonde he tugged the blonde close, wrapping him in the hug as well, all four of them toppling over in a pile of limbs and they all couldn’t help but laugh.

It was about an hour later when Aragorn witnessed Tragu tripping over the legs of the pair of sweats he was wearing that Aragorn realized something.

“Legolas,” he called out and didn’t even jump when the nimble blonde dropped down from a tree branch right next to him, landing soundlessly on the ground, tucking a strand of silver gold behind a pointed ear. A blonde brow was raised and the brunette looked over at Tragu who was rolling up the pant legs of the sweats. “We need to go shopping for them,” he stated simply and the blonde followed his line of sight before snorting delicately as he watched Tragu trip again as the pant legs fell back down to their original length before he nodded his consent. “Don’t be mean, Legolas,” he chided softly, a teasing grin on his lips as Legolas blinked at him owlishly with a doe like innocence that warranted applause.

“Alright,” the blonde murmured, leaning closer and nuzzling Aragorn’s cheek, pulling back not a second later. “I’ll go get Smaug.” As the blonde walked away, Aragorn could only stare after him like an idiot, mouth hanging open slightly. He didn’t notice the teenager approaching until a throat was cleared.

“I thought you two were already together,” the teen murmured, looking up at him with mischievous eyes. Aragorn jolted, barely managing to bite back a yelp as he looked at the male standing before him. His mouth opened and closed uselessly like a fish out of water. “I mean, you act like a married couple, but,” he lifted Aragorn’s left hand and he released a soft breath, “there’s no ring, so I guess that makes sense.” Tragu sounded disappointed for an odd reason and he grasped Aragorn’s larger hand in his own, looking up through his fringe. “Are you guys’ boyfriends?”

“N-no…” Well, at least he found his voice.

“Well, I think you two would be cute together with an intense amount of PDA,” Tragu snorted, giving Aragorn’s hand a squeeze. “I’d make your move.”

Legolas returned, Smaug in tow.

“Yeah…” he commented back dazedly, completely missing Tragu's smirk as he met his sister’s eyes.

 

 

 

“Come on, change quickly,” came the voice from the living room, the slight whine in his voice barely detectable, though he knew his lover heard it, if the light laugh he got in response was anything to go by. It sent butterflies through his stomach, despite having been married for a few years. Brow furrowing as his lips pursed tightly to prevent them from turning into a pout because he didn’t pout; he relaxed further back into the couch, barely restraining the urge to whine like a child. How did this man do this to him? How did he make him, who was always put together and mature, fall back onto childish means to get what he wanted?

“Just give me a second. I’m trying not to spread diseases here,” was the far too cheerful reply and he sighed deeply through his nose, letting his head roll back from where he rested on the couch. He gazed at the ceiling and couldn’t help but think that they needed a bigger place—a far bigger place. He knew his husband wanted a dog, but the apartment they were living in wasn’t large enough for a dog and although they had enough money for a larger place, they hadn’t gotten around to looking.

Making mental note to bring it up later, he stood immediately as his husband walked out of their room, dressed in a pair of washed out jeans and a t-shirt, his winter coat thrown on haphazardly. Smiling, he walked over, leaning close and pressing a soft kiss to the other man’s lips. The soft scrape of the short beard made him smile and he pulled back quickly.

“Let’s go. You’re the one that wanted to go shopping anyway.”

“Well, yeah, but you put it off for so long.”

The blonde turned to look at him as he locked the door to the apartment. “Because you’ve been exhausted lately and there was no way I was going to let you roam around a mall looking like the undead. I am sorry, but I’m too stunning for people to think my husband is a zombie.” The blonde smiled secretively, the brunette laughing lightly, reaching out and lacing their fingers together as they began to walk to the elevator.

The ride down was peaceful and as the doors opened, they stepped out. The brunette shuddered as he caught sight of the snow falling, but a smile lit up the blonde’s face as the duo exited the building. The streets were covered in a thin layer of already melting snow, but the temperature was frigid. Shivering, the brunette stiffened as if it would help preserve his body heat.

“You should have worn a scarf, Bard,” the blonde admonished lightly, his steps light as he delicately avoided stepping into the heavy places filled with brown slush. The boots he was wearing were new—he wasn’t in the mood to stain them.

“You were the one rushing me,” Bard grumbled, but he squeezed the pale hand in his own gently, watching as a pink dusting decorated high cheekbones at the affectionate gesture. Their pace was quick, but relaxed, both wanting to get out of the cold, but still enjoying the fresher scent the air held in the winter. The city was constantly covered in a layer of fumes from the amount of cars running through the city, but the winter seemed to wash it away—or rather mask it.

No more words were exchanged and once Bard seemed to be getting too cold to continue walking, Thranduil hailed a cab. Sitting in the back of the yellow vehicle, Thranduil wrapped his own scarf around Bard’s neck, pulling him closer and gently nuzzling the chapped lips with his own soft ones.

“Next time you should get ready when I tell you to,” Thranduil murmured against the lips as he pulled back, tone fond despite the words, blue eyes staring deep into Bard’s.

“I’ll remember that,” the brunette croaked and he wondered how it was that the blonde still managed to take his breath away with only a look. Resting his head on the blonde’s shoulder, they remained quiet, ignoring the looks the taxi driver sent them through the review mirror. She seemed like a nice woman and Bard shot her a small smile when they heard the soft ‘aw’ she let out as Thranduil tucked a lock of brown hair behind his ear.

Arriving to the mall, they paid the taxi driver and Bard held a small conversation with her before she drove away. Walking into the mall, Bard released a quiet sigh of relief at the heated interior that greeted him. Wandering around, Thranduil whispered to him he’d be right back, having spotted something a bit further away. After getting a nod of acknowledgement, the blonde was gone.

Moving towards the aisles with his favorite style of shirts, he flicked through the hangers, grabbing the ones he wanted to try on to make sure the sizes matched—although he was pretty sure they would. He picked up a few dress shirts as well, knowing he’d need them for work for whenever he wasn’t in scrubs.

Heading towards the dressing rooms, he stopped as he caught sight of something not too far away.

 

 

 

“How could you have lost them?” Legolas questioned incredulously and Aragorn was doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach with one arm, tears of mirth swimming in grey orbs. “Aragorn,” the blonde whined, lips pulling into an unconscious pout, “I’m being serious here. We haven’t filled out the paperwork yet. They’ll be in major trouble if we can’t find them!” The poor blonde looked absolutely livid, blue eyes wide with panic and Aragorn managed to compose himself, reaching out to grab the blonde by the shoulders.

“Relax; I’m sure they’re around here somewhere. We told them to look for clothes, after all,” Aragorn soothed, thumbs gently massaging the tense shoulders, applying gentle pressure and he felt Legolas melt into the touch, head rolling back as a long drawn out sigh was pulled from past pink lips. Eyelids fluttered shut and pale fingers gently held onto Aragorn’s forearms.

“Fine—you’re right, you’re right,” Legolas breathed out, slowly opening his eyes to look at Aragorn, bright blue meeting molten grey.

“Aren’t I always?”

The blonde shot him a look and the brunette grinned, letting his hands drop. They moved to look for clothes as well as the twins who had run off without their permission. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Legolas turned around, seeing Aragorn pause what he was doing as well.

“Hello, Legolas,” the man greeted and the blonde blinked, feeling Aragorn’s hand brush his own and the man looked at Aragorn with the same kind smile. “Hello, Aragorn.”

“Doctor, how nice to see you,” Aragorn replied, returning the smile and the blonde slowly relaxed, smiling softly. “What brings you here?”

“Shopping with my partner; I saw you guys, thought I would come and see how his ribs are doing,” the doctor replied and Aragorn grinned a bit more brightly. The brunette gently nudged Legolas and the blonde jerked in surprise before realizing they were waiting for him to respond.

“Sorry,” he muttered in embarrassment before quickly recovering, tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind his ear. “They’re good. I think they’re only slightly bruised now,” he responded, pressing a hand to his ribs as if to demonstrate. The doctor smiled and nodded.

“That’s good. Oh,” he pulled out a notepad and pen from his pockets and Aragorn couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up inside him because the man looked so much like a doctor as he scribbled something down, “this is an ointment that should help with the healing.” He tore off the page, handing it to Aragorn.

“Bard—oh, here you are,” a voice came from behind the doctor and the brunette turned around, smiling as he saw Thranduil walking up to him, holding a scarf in his hand and he couldn’t help his entire demeanor softening at the sight. “Who’re you talking to?”

“Oh, patients of mine,” Bard responded, reaching out and taking Thranduil’s hand in his own as the blonde stepped forward. “This is Aragorn and—”

“Legolas…”

Time seemed to stand still and Bard blinked in confusion as his husband just stood solid, his face a mess of emotions, eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide, lips trembling. He seemed to have paled several shades and as he glanced at the other blonde, he found him not faring any better.

“How’d you know that?” Aragorn questioned, voice sounding a tad defensive, expression tight as his shoulders stiffened.

“That’s my son,” Thranduil whispered after a moment, a pale hand trembling as he reached out. The second his fingers made contact with Legolas’s cheek, the younger blonde jerked back as if burned. Thranduil’s expression seemed to shatter and his hand fell to his side.

_“Will the fathers of Smaug and Tragu please make their way to the cashier to get their children?”_

The voice over the speakers shocked Legolas into action and he looked at all three of them. “Right, well, we should be going now.” He shot down the aisles, leaving the three of them behind.

Aragorn looked over at Bard, concern written on his face and the other brunette could only shrug helplessly, giving a gentle smile to Aragorn before turning to gather Thranduil in his arms who looked about to break down. Aragorn mouthed a quick apology before quickly running after Legolas.

 

 

 

“Love, are you alright?” Bard whispered softly, the clothes he had grabbed tucked in the corner as they sat on the bench inside the fitting room, hugging the blonde close to him. He didn’t get a reply and he felt the slight shake of the pale body. “Oh, Thranduil,” he whispered softly, fingers carding through blonde locks gently as he rocked them back and forth, skillfully ignoring the wet patch growing on the front of his shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was it. Let me know what you guys think and I'll try to get chapter sixteen up a bit faster than this one--hopefully it'll be longer, too. Thanks for reading and feel free to leave comments and kudos!


	16. Our Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I was originally going to make this chapter super duper long, but I liked ending it here, so this is what you got instead. I'm sorry it's so short, but hopefully the next will be longer.
> 
> I also felt so bad for taking so long to update, so I wanted to get something out as soon as possible. So, here is chapter 16!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S
> 
> This chapter is unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine. Sorry!

The rest of the shopping trip went by uneventfully for Aragorn and Legolas. After they had picked up Smaug and Tragu, they had continued shopping. The twins had found a surplus of things and although the blonde seemed a bit worried about the price, Aragorn waved off his concern.

People tossed them odd looks here and there and Aragorn glared each and every single one down as Legolas, soft spoken as he was, tried to keep the twins under control while keeping all of them under the radar just in case.

It was amazing, watching the blonde move through a crowd. It was like water rolling of rocks, swift and smooth, completely ignoring the obstacles in his path. He danced through people and Aragorn remembered with distinct clarity that one moment where Legolas had pulled n acrobatic stunt that he should have honestly been in the circus. He would have made a ton of money that way.

He had used the wall as a launching pad, using Aragorn’s shoulder as a crutch for a brief moment and spiraled himself over a sea of people to get to Smaug and Tragu who had run off towards a jewelry store. It had been with no lack of grace that the blonde had landed behind them, took hold of their hair and wrenched them to walk backwards to where Aragorn had been left standing, nearly gaping. There were other people who had stopped and watched, looking both degrees of impressed and horrified.

One woman had spat out that this was why gay people shouldn’t be allowed to raise kid. Legolas had merely cocked an eyebrow while Aragorn had stared her down long and hard before casually glimpsing behind her, asking a nonchalant “is that your kid?” and watching as she whirled and scampered to get her son who had stolen a pair of sunglasses from one of the carts lying in a row in the middle of the passageway of the mall.

It felt great.

Legolas ignored the curious looks Aragorn sent him, though, in regards to the previous problem. It was clear he would prefer not to talk about it, though he did lean against the brunette more often than not, taking advantage of the comfort that was so readily offered to him. It was nice and sweet and Aragorn wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The blonde fit so comfortably against him and maybe it was the ludicrous part of his mind talking, but he wanted to keep this, wanted to keep _him._ God, he wanted this and not just for now and he knew that, deep in his heart, he knew he wanted Legolas, wanted him as more than just friends, as more than just a co-worker/employee. And that thought scared him, honestly. It scared him shitless and he didn’t know what to do about it.

How was he supposed to do this? He didn’t believe in love and yet there was no other word he could think of to describe this. Love hurt, didn’t it? But _this—_ this felt like utter bliss and he felt like he was floating on the clouds and on a rollercoaster at the same time and he fucking loved it, loved this human being next to him.

He was fucked.

As they waited outside the fitting room in another store in the vast mall, Legolas curled up against Aragorn’s side on the bench. His head was rested against Aragorn’s collarbone, Aragorn’s chin rested on the crown of Legolas’s head. It was a silent moment shared between the two of them, a mutual understanding. He understood the blonde’s silent plea for comfort and security and he was more than willing to provide it.

It was at that moment that he realized he was more than willing to give the pointy-eared male absolutely anything so long as he asked. That realization scared him. It scared him so much that he nearly threw Legolas off of him, but then the blonde had released the most content little sigh and Aragorn ended up pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. As he felt the slight upturn of those lips against his skin, he never felt so relieved to have made the choice to let someone in.

Aragorn didn’t ask questions—didn’t pry—only cradled Legolas’s body in his arms gently; calloused fingers carding through silk locks as the blonde let himself relax for a moment.

“I didn’t think I’d see him again so soon…”

That was the only comment made on the topic by the blonde for the rest of the shopping trip.

 

 

 

 

Bard always found himself extremely grateful for having such a strong husband. Thranduil was always his firm rock whenever he needed the support, always there to catch him before he could even begin to fall. It was just how it had always been and although Bard sometimes felt guilty about it, he knew Thranduil wouldn’t give the help if he didn’t want to. That was another enjoyable thing about Thranduil. He was unable to do anything unless he desired to. It was both exhausting and relieving.

The fact that Thranduil bothered to visit him when he was working long hours at the hospital or danced around with him in the comfort of their bedroom whenever Bard was in a depressed mood made him so undeniably happy. It was the small things and the fact that Thranduil would do all of that just because he wanted to, because it was _Bard_ , filled him with warmth.

However, with Thranduil lying in a crumpled heap in his arms, he didn’t know what to do. Thranduil, of course, had his moments where things became too much for him, but he normally broke down in the safety of their bedroom. They were in a public place right now, though, and Bard knew Thranduil was uncomfortable with people seeing him cry.

“Thranduil—love—we should go.”

“No, I’m fine, I just—” Thranduil’s voice cracked at the end and he clung harder to Bard who held Thranduil equally as tight, letting Thranduil cry himself out. Eventually he just rested against Bard’s chest, exhausted from his weeping. A knock on the dressing room door alerted them of someone else and Bard called out a quick ‘occupied’ before his attention returned to his lover.

What was he supposed to do? Last Thranduil had told him about his son, Thranduil had said that he loved his child and that they had a fantastic relationship—and then he had proceeded to become a nervous wreck after he realized Legolas hadn’t called him for the last two months. That had been two months after Legolas had moved out from Thranduil’s protective wing.

Bard remembered that night quite clearly and his bum sure remembered it, too.

He looked down at the blonde, pulling the long locks aside and over one shoulder.

Thranduil was now just staring at his hands with a contemplative look on his face.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered. “Why didn’t he want to see me? He seemed happy and at peace. Did I disrupt that? Did I upset him? What if I did? What if he hates me? What if he didn’t recognize me? What—” he was muttering to himself at this point and his tone was slowly growing more and more panicked as he went through varying degrees of ‘what ifs’. Bard looked on sadly, frowning softly and he hugged Thranduil tightly.

“Stop, love, just stop, please,” Bard murmured, his own eyes pricking with tears at seeing his lover so hopelessly lost. His rock, broken, turned to dust. “I’m sure it was just because the location wasn’t ideal. That was all.” The brunette watched as his husband clung to every word, slowly nodding his head. His heart broke as he watched those crystals eyes stare at his hands lost and desperate.

“Yeah… Yeah, that has to be it.” It was another few moments before the blonde actually acknowledged his existence any further and when he did, it was by looking up with gleaming blue orbs that took Bard’s breath away, pink lips meeting his own in a chaste kiss. “You are the greatest.” Their lips brushed as Thranduil spoke, soft satin cushions against Bard’s own chapped ones. “How can I ever repay you?”

He pretended to think as if Thranduil didn’t already do enough for him. It was initially Thranduil’s teaching job that had supported them solely. It was with Thranduil constantly working that Bard managed to go through medical school with Thranduil paying for everything. It was always Thranduil. “You could let me worship every inch of your body when we get home.” Bard’s voice dropped low and he felt the shudder that passed through his lover’s body at the words. He wanted to return the favor—he would spend the rest of his life trying to repay the blonde for everything, for every beautiful thing Thranduil had ever done for him. He didn’t care if it took him his entire life. He loved this man and would do anything for him.

“I think can do that,” he breathed out and their lips met in a heated lip lock, Bard pressing Thranduil against the wall of the small fitting room, pinning the pale wrists to either side of his head and grinding his hips forward. Thranduil gasped wetly into his mouth and Bard pulled away with a smirk that slowly morphed into a gentle smile as he gazed upon his beloved blonde.

“Let me try these on and when we get home, I’m going to kiss every single part of you and then I’m going to fuck you slow and hard…”

Thranduil swallowed thickly.

Bard reached his hands up and gently wiped away the dried tears with his thumbs. He leaned close, pressing a softer kiss to the blonde’s lips and the male went pliant in his arms, tired from crying and unwilling to put up a fight. His arms looped around Bard’s neck, drawing him closer gently as their lips moved in tandem before they parted.

“Alright, try those on quickly. I refuse to let you buy them and then not wear them later because they’re too big or small, you don’t like the cut, the material was bad, or you think you don’t look good in it, so hurry up.” The blonde planted himself on bench firmly, crossing one leg over the other at knee, holding the scarf he had grabbed delicately in his hands.

Bard grinned, choosing the first of many shirts to try on. Thranduil returned it, though it was smaller than what he normally got from the blonde and that in its own made Bard’s chest feel tight.

 

 

 

 

“He seemed happy to see you,” Aragorn finally said once they were home, Smaug and Tragu running through the trees with Bilbo and Thorin right behind them, attempting to catch them. God, he hoped those two made their relationship official soon since it was painfully obvious for the rest of them.

Legolas nodded his head mutely, delicately swinging himself up the branches of the trees, walking along the trucks and mounting another one higher up. Aragorn sighed softly, gazing upwards before clambering up after the blonde. He wasn’t as graceful as the blonde, but he was almost as fast and he found the blonde amongst the high branches rather quickly.

“Talk to me, Legolas,” he whispered, not wanting to pressure the blonde into speaking on something he would rather not, but also not wanting to let the blonde keep it bottled up tightly inside of himself. It wasn’t right.

He saw the moment the blonde broke, leaning weakly against the trunk of the tree, straddling the branch he was sitting on. Aragorn was just a branch below him and he rested his cheek on the branch right next to Legolas’s leg, gazing up at the blonde with honest and warm eyes.

“Do you remember Elrond’s story?”

Everything clicked.

 

 

 

 

“Don’t tease me—not today,” was the breathy plea that escaped kiss swollen lips. The stubble of a beard rasped against glorious pale skin that was now covered in a myriad of red splotches. A low chuckle escaped the man as he let their lips meet once more in a soft kiss, letting their tongues glide wetly against each other in a tangled dance.

“But you’re so beautiful when you’re begging for it,” he responded, voice low, an animalistic rumble reverberating somewhere deep in his chest. He saw the shudder, felt the trembling of the pale thighs pressed against his sides.

Arms braced on either side of the pale body, he ground his hips forward, swollen cock nestling itself in between the two delicious mound of flesh.

“I swear to god, next time I top, I’m going to tease you into oblivion and see how you like it.”

He chuckled throatily in response; let his fingers graze the purpled head of his lover’s cock.

“I’m going to slam your foot into the table later and laugh at your suffering, I swear—god, just do something, please!”

He pressed their bodies together, lips meeting in a bruising kiss as he lubed his fingers, pulling back and grinning wickedly at the man below him. “I love it when you talk dirty.” He slammed three fingers home.

 

 

 

 

“Well, that explains a lot,” Aragorn muttered, looking down, fingers massaging Legolas’s calf absentmindedly.

“It does?”

“Well, not really, but it kind of explains why you reacted the way you did.”

“I just don’t want him to think I’m a disappointment,” the blonde muttered and Aragorn’s fingers stilled, gripping the leg tightly and he looked up at the angel sitting above him.

“I’ve known your father for about three seconds, but I can tell with all certainty that he would not call you a disappointment, ever,” Aragorn hissed, tone vehement as he glared up at the blonde. “And if he does, then clearly he doesn’t know you as well as he should.”

He didn’t expect the sudden curtain of spun gold or the soft press of warm lips on his forehead. He most certainly did not expect the wet trail that wet down his forehead and down the line of his face as he gazed up at the teary eyed blonde.

“You are a good friend, Aragorn. You truly are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it was so short, but I hope you enjoyed this! I was supposed to be doing my homework, but you guys are way more important <3
> 
> Thank you for reading and please do leave me some comments below. I love knowing what you guys are thinking and feel free to drop some suggestions below of what you would like to see. This story is supposed to have 25 chapters, plus an epilogue, but I'm running out of ideas here (hence, the slow updates and short chapters), so if you have anything, do let me know. I'll see if I can fit it into the story and if I can't, I might make a separate little one shot just for you and link it to this story (though that depends on whether or not I have time).
> 
> Okay, that's all! Thank you for reading and please don't be shy to comment or leave me some kudos! <3


	17. Reminders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 17!
> 
> P.S.
> 
> This chapter in unbeta'd.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.

Life was good—life was great. Life was all kinds of wonderful, in Tragu’s opinion as he lay by the fireplace, gazing at the maze of trees lying before him and all around. The days had gotten colder and he couldn’t help but be grateful that Aragorn and Legolas had taken them in like they had. It was nice and he knew that as soon as the paper work was done, he and his sister would be allowed to stay in their home with them.

And how he hoped _they_ would stay together, as well.

Honestly, he had no clue as to what had gone on in their lives respectively, but their blatant oblivious behavior to the feelings they so obviously harbored for each other was slowly starting to annoy him. Of course, who was he to judge? Legolas had once told him that Aragorn had gone through some things that made him so abstinent from romantic behavior and had also self admitted to having had some turbulence in any attempt at a romantic relationship, or even just having a crush.

It had never ended well for either of them.

But as he gazed at Legolas, laughing while sitting on top of Aragorn’s shoulders as he attempted to scrambled away onto higher branches, but finding himself unable to from the grip on his legs, he knew that this would be different.

How could it not be?

They were so happy together, just being in each others’ presence lit them up.

So close to the New Year, too.

Rolling over, Tragu gazed into the flickering flames and he felt another body come sit next to him and he expected it to be his sister, he was surprised to find it to be Aragorn instead. His tangled mess of hair was pulled into a sloppy bun and he had a three day scruff adorning his cheeks.

He wondered if Legolas ever thought of what it would be like to kiss him with the beard.

It wasn’t much of a secret. Legolas was at least not in complete denial. He accepted what he knew in his heart was true—and Tragu was all kinds of grateful for that—but he wouldn’t act on it, kept it locked inside.

Why suffer the pain of unrequited in the open when it’s so much easier to do so behind closed doors?

Tragu wondered if those doors were the doors on his heart, or the doors of the closet he seemed to be in.

At least the blonde didn’t outright deny his sexuality; he just never made it clear, an infuriating habit.

Aragorn’s eyes were trained on the flames, legs crossed Indian style and Tragu returned his attention back to the flames, absorbing the warmth they offered. There was a shift of movement next to him and he didn’t notice it soon enough to jump out of the way when he was suddenly tackled to the grassy floor.

“You shouldn’t be left alone with your thoughts, young man. Pensive isn’t a good look on you.”

“Who said I was thinking?”

“You weren’t?” Aragorn’s eyes were bright with mirth as Tragu’s lips pursed together in a reluctant admittance to his actions. There was a snort of laughter from somewhere off to the side and he recognized it as his sisters—who else’s could it be? Legolas didn’t snort when he laughed. No, his laughter was quiet and light, like he was afraid to be too loud; almost as if he thought his enjoyment of a situation would tarnish it for someone else.

“You can’t prove he was thinking,” Smaug jumped to his defense, plopping onto Aragorn’s back and eliciting a grunt from the brunette. “Trust me, it’s moments rare—far and few between—that his brain is actually used for more than just ornamentation.”

“You use his brain as an ornament?” Legolas’s soft voice floated over and Tragu hadn’t noticed the blonde was there until Aragorn suddenly stood, dragging both he and his sister up. Legolas grabbed Tragu away from Aragorn’s grasp, setting his lightly on his feet. “What horrifying visuals.”

“And that’s enough for today, ladies and gentlemen,” Aragorn declared with an easy laugh, walking over to Legolas and sweeping him up in his arms.

Tragu wondered if Aragorn was really strong or if Legolas was just really light despite his own strength.

“We can’t have you going to a party with that stuck in your heads. It’s not right.”

“My apologies,” Legolas murmured and Aragorn was all smiles and joyful laughter as he assured the blonde that it was quite alright and he had only been teasing.

How long had they known each other? They seemed so close.

“Bilbo will be over soon, alright? Do not point out his and Thorin’s relationship. They are working through it on their own,” Aragorn warned as he turned his gaze to his sister and him.

“You sound more excited than we are,” Smaug mused and Tragu wondered why. Why was Aragorn so excited?

“I get to see some old friends. As much as I detest dressing up, seeing come college friends would be nice. I’ve missed them just a bit,” the brunette admitted softly and Tragu watched Legolas nod. It seemed as if he had already heard this. Maybe he had made the same deduction that Smaug had, although how, Tragu didn’t know. Aragorn’s excitement hadn’t really shown through till that moment.

“Plus,” Aragorn drawled, moving to pull Smaug and himself into a head lock under each arm, running calloused fingers through their hair—did Legolas ever revel in the touch of those hands?—shooting them both a large grin, “I get to introduce them to this little family I’ve found myself.”

“Which is why,” Legolas continued, looking down at all three of them, “you guys all need to get yourselves ready at least from the neck up. And Smaug, Tragu,” his voice was soft like warm honey. “I want you both to be—”

“On our best behavior,” Tragu concluded and the blonde looked so genuinely confused at the statement that Tragu doubted what he said was correct.

“Well, that’s nice and all, but we mainly want you both to be yourselves completely and utterly.” Legolas crouched down and Tragu found he immensely enjoyed when the blonde did that. It made everything seem so much nicer and less patronizing. “Since you guys are meeting Aragorn’s friends, Aragorn would prefer it if they met the real you instead of some perfect little angels with no personality whatsoever.”

Smaug giggled, covering her mouth and ducking out of Aragorn’s grasp that had gone slightly limp. Glancing up, Tragu noticed the slightly dilated pupils the way that grey stare was focused solely on the crouched figure before them.

He wondered what it was Aragorn thought of when he looked at Legolas.

Did he think of dirty things?

Did he think of sonnets and poems to describe the blonde?

Was he painting a picture in his head? Taking a snapshot? Committing the moment to memory?

Was he doing all of the above?

The sheer passion and adoration swimming in the depths of those grey orbs confirmed it slightly for Tragu. It probably was all of the above because Aragorn seemed like the kind of person to leave no stone unturned, to look at everything from all angles.

He probably multi-tasked well, Tragu thought absentmindedly. He wondered if Legolas would appreciate that.

 

 

 

 

He stumbled into the room, haphazardly tossing off his clothes and scrambling for his costume.

“Relax, sweetheart,” his wife cooed and he tossed her a weak glare, grabbing the costume off its hanger and trying to wriggle it on as quickly as possible. “Faramir, relax. We’ll get there on time.”

“We might not, love. I forgot Boromir was going to drop by and you know how he always runs late. We need to be ready by the time he gets here so that we can head out,” Faramir responded and he watched how his wife cringed, lips tugging downward before she was joining him in the mad dash to get ready.

“Genius,” she muttered and Faramir grinned meekly, releasing a somewhat timid laugh.

“I forgot. He called me ages ago and just now he sent a text that he had nearly forgotten about today. I swear, he probably spent all night at a bar after hitting the gym.” The grumbled words were spoken with a fond undertone and Eowyn laughed lightly as she slipped into her dress, walking to him as she pulled her hair over her shoulder.

“Do up the back for me?”

A soft kiss was dropped on her pair shoulder as strong fingers trailed feather light down the exposed skin of her back. “Of course,” was the whispered reply she received. They ended up just _barely_ being ready before Boromir showed up with a bright smile and a bellow for a light beer before arriving to the party.

The reason of just having gotten off the phone with their father being enough of a reason for Faramir to hand his brother two before enveloping him in a tight hug of welcome. They hadn’t seen each other since Eowyn had moved in, after all.

 

 

 

 

He preferred the mundane life—at least he thought he had preferred the mundane life. The simple, classic lifestyle that soothed frazzled nerves with the routine of the every day. That was what he thought he liked—what he wanted, needed.

And then in came Thorin and his life was turned upside down.

Throughout his entire life Bilbo hadn’t ever wanted to step out of his comfort zone, hadn’t wanted to leave what he knew. And then Thorin had been passing through town one day and they had gotten to talking. Long story short, Bilbo Baggins, former country boy, had packed up all of his things, sold his farm, and had gone to the city with one Thorin Oakenshield because the man was interesting and admittedly attractive.

Now, years later, Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to regret any of it. The only thing he wanted now, though, was to be able to take their friendship to a relationship; and if he was reading the signs correctly, Thorin wanted that, too.

Unfortunately, with the hectic planning that came with Bilbo’s parties and the restaurant he had along with Thorin’s own job, they hadn’t gotten the time recently to sit down and talk about whether it would be a good idea, or whether it would be alright, how much it would change things.

Looking over at the man who was helping set up the snack table on Bilbo’s request, he wondered if tonight would work to make it official, to take it to the next step like they both desired so.

“Bilbo, you need to go over to Aragorn’s place. He’s expecting you, remember,” Thorin muttered in that low baritone voice of his and Bilbo jerked, looking up in surprise as he pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“Right, right,” he gasped, fumbling about to grab the bags with the outfits in them before scrambling to find his keys.

“Bilbo…”

Oh, the things that voice made him feel—it was sinful.

Turning around, he met Thorin’s gaze and smiled sheepishly as Thorin held out his keys to him. “Thanks,” he mumbled, voice drifting off as he took the keys gently, gaze lingering on the man’s face before he jerked into action. “Right, so,” a cough escaped him, awkward and weak, as he turned to the door, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Alright,” was the response and he could feel the burning of those eyes on his back as he walked out the door, face hot and feeling utterly flustered.

“Alright then,” he breathed out as he locked the door before hurrying to his car and quickly driving out into the city roads to head to Aragorn’s place.

 

 

 

 

Aragorn jumped when he heard the telltale ding of the elevator doors opening to let someone in. Weaving through the trees, Legolas up on the branches, following closely behind, he stopped at the sight of Bilbo, not hearing Legolas drop down behind him, straightening and standing just a few paces back from Aragorn.

“Bilbo,” he greeted and the smaller man grinned and bustled forward with his bags, dropping them gently on the grassed ground to envelope Aragorn in a tight hug. “How have you been?”

“Oh, just fine,” the man responded, moving around to collect his bags before blinking in confusion as he saw they were already off the ground and in Legolas’s arms. Smiling his thanks to the blonde who silently returned it before walking off through the trees, Bilbo turned his attention to Aragorn. “It hasn’t been so long since I last saw you. I never did ask, though—how was the visit to your family?”

At that, Aragorn tensed, clearing his throat awkwardly. “It went,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and motioning for Bilbo to follow him through the maze of trees. They found Legolas with Smaug and Tragu, gently helping them with their outfits while they talked to him about all the jewelry they got to wear and how exciting it was.

The two had apparently never been to a party, especially not a masquerade and they seemed all worked up about it. Their excitement was nearly palpable and Aragorn smiled in their direction.

“Not well, I take it,” Bilbo whispered and Aragorn shook his head forlornly.

“Not well, indeed. Apparently my family somehow managed to work into their heads that there was something wrong with Legolas being around—among other matters—and it was rather tense,” he responded, leaning his back against the trunk of one of the trees. “And my father wants to see this place today, also, after the party, so that’s another thing.”

Bilbo winced, reaching out and patting Aragorn’s hand before clasping it tightly within his own. “It’ll work itself out, son. It always does.” The smile he sent at the taller brunette was returned as Aragorn seemed to relax just marginally.

Legolas knew of Aragorn’s worries, of course. When did he not? But the blonde had been nothing but appeasing. He had offered to keep himself, Smaug, and Tragu up in the trees for as long as possible if it would help. As much as Aragorn hated the idea of making the man and children he decided to live with hide, he knew that he would first need to work through his familial issues before his family would be able to handle his new family.

It sent a thrill down him spine thinking of this as his family with Legolas.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile hidden as Legolas walked over and handed him his outfit after fitting the masks onto Tragu’s and Smaug’s faces. How precious they looked in their red and gold outfits, Tragu fingering the delicate material of the gold cummerbund as Smaug adjusted the hat over his fiery red locks.

“Get dressed, Aragorn,” Legolas whispered, nodding once more at Bilbo before heading to gather his own outfit and change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!


	18. A Blessed Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> P.S.
> 
> This chapter is un-beta'd.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.

The party was just starting when they arrived, Bilbo having somehow convinced Aragorn to let him take Legolas in his car and the brunette had just missed the blonde and hadn’t caught a glimpse of him. There were lights strung up around the house and Aragorn wondered minutely how Bilbo had gotten a house in a city, but then decided not to question it.

Bilbo and Thorin were rather creative with things, after all. There might have been some elaborate scheme behind it that he probably wouldn’t bother to find out. Looking down at the two teenagers at his sides, he watched them fondly as they seemed to bounce in excitement.

“So,” he drawled, watching and failing to hide a smirk as the two heads snapped around to look at him, “Legolas and I were thinking of getting the paperwork—”

He didn’t get much more out as the he saw their eyes widen behind their masks before they were clamoring on top of him. He cats an apologetic look to the cab driver as the man glanced back through the rearview mirror, though the man seemed to not be bothered, sending Aragorn a small smile.

“They’re your kids?”

“Soon to be,” Aragorn replied, tucking his arm around Smaug’s shoulder and cringing away as her fingers met his sides, trying to tickle him.

The man smiled knowingly, like he went through the same thing once and judging by the picture the man had on his dashboard, he had.

The drive was then spent quietly as Aragorn told the two stories of Bilbo’s other parties, all the while grimacing but falling in love with the laughs of the two and their quick comments as they conversed about every hectic thing that happened.

“There was a year where I remember Merry and Pippin spiked the punch, filled it with three whole bottles of vodka. I don’t know why no one noticed considering the bowl was overflowing at that point.”

“Did you drink some?”

He sighed, closing his eyes as his face twisted up in fond regret. “I did—quite a bit, actually. I can hold my alcohol rather well, but by the end of the night, apparently I had down a strip show with Boromir.” Now he winced, looking down at the too. “I’m not sure that was age appropriate for you guys.”

They laughed and Aragorn let loose a grin.

Clambering out of the car, Aragorn walked to the front door after paying the driver, knocking and smiling as none other than Boromir opened the door.

“Aragorn,” the man cried out, yanking him forward and holding him tight. Even with their masks on, it was easy to tell it was each other. Boromir’s stocky build was easy to make out and his hair had changed in years. “I almost didn’t recognize you. You finally brushed your hair,” Boromir commented and Aragorn laughed good-naturedly, clapping the man on the shoulder.

“Smaug, Tragu,” he motioned to the twins who looked up, their scales of the mask gleaming in the soft light from inside, “meet Boromir. Boromir, this Smaug and Tragu,” he gestured again to the two.

“Well, hello!” he boomed, bending down slightly to be more on level with them. “Whose kids are they?”

The two looked up at him, meeting Aragorn’s eyes through their masks and he could see the hesitance in those orbs, the shyness that they kept so well-hidden, fear of rejection. He remembered the same look in Legolas’s eyes when they had first met, those blue eyes peeking up at him as he mumbled the only form of payment he really wanted.

A place to stay—somewhere to call home—and he felt a lump form in his throat as he swallowed thickly.

“They’re mine,” he responded, watching with a smile as their expressions brightened, those eyes cleared away to be replaced with hopeful looks and Aragorn could feel his chest loosen, the lump disappear.

“Yours,” Boromir repeated dubiously, expression clearly confused as he ushered them inside and Aragorn told the twins to go run around and have fun. The door was closed behind them and Aragorn nodded his head, setting the coats of the twins aside and removing his own as well.

“Yeah, mine,” he reiterated. “And Legolas’s,” he added in, “though you haven’t met him yet,” was muttered as more of an afterthought.

“Wait—have you gotten married and I didn’t know about it?”

“What? No, no, I’m not even in a relationship—Boromir!”

His cheeks were read, he could feel it and he was momentarily glad that his mask covered half of his face, thankfully the half facing Boromir as he cast his eyes about in search for a certain blonde haired individual.

“Just checking; I mean, I know Arwen’s getting married. I thought maybe I had missed your wedding somehow.”

“No, fear not, you have missed nothing of the sort.”

“But you are getting there?”

Aragorn bit his bottom lip, breathing in deeply as he thought, tilting his head downward slightly. He had only just come to accept his feelings, only just gotten to the point where he could admit to himself that what he was feeling was more than just a hopeless crush on his co-worker and that it was deeper, delving into the realms of love that he had spent so long trying to steer away from.

“I’d prefer to actually get into a relationship before thinking about marriage.”

Boromir nodded his head, wrapping a comforting arm around Aragorn’s shoulder and giving him a squeeze. “Well, do not fret over it too much. Maybe things were naturally fall into place. Bilbo’s parties are magical—it might even happen here,” Boromir grunted, spinning Aragorn around.

“No drinks yet, Boromir. You need to be sober for at least the beginning of the night.”

“I’ve already had two beers. I don’t see how another will make any difference.”

And the brunette was off, disappearing into the kitchen to get another beer from the table and Aragorn rolled his eyes before moving through the mass of people. He ran into Frodo, who literally jumped on him and Merry and Pippin joined in as soon as they saw them. Sam was fortunately more levelheaded and just gave him a spine crushing hug, though the man didn’t wait for the other three to get off his back.

If Aragorn spent a bit of time on his knees afterwards for reason more than just the short height of the three, he didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to know.

“Oh, have you seen Faramir?”

Aragorn blinked, terrified momentarily, wondering if they somehow found out about his job, but then the irrational fear went away as he remembered. Faramir was Boromir’s brother. Aragorn thanked the gods that Aragorn only ever saw the man at Bilbo’s parties and never anywhere else. It would be hard keeping those two parts of his life separate if he knew Faramir a bit more.

“He’s here with his wife.”

“Eowyn sure is pretty.”

“You would have liked her.”

“Too bad he picked her up.”

Aragorn laughed lightly, just listening to the four rambling before excusing himself to go find his friend. Said friend was still unfound when he ran into Eomer and they just stared at each other in tense silence before Aragorn nodded tersely and continued on.

He had enough self-control to not cause a scene unnecessarily on New Year’s Eve. He wasn’t so rude as to make a scene at a party.

Casting his eyes about once more, he managed to avoid most conversation and with a sigh, he entered the kitchen, the only place he hadn’t checked and there he found the golden haired man he had been searching for.

Legolas looked up from where he had been sipping his water and his entire face lit up as he caught sight of Aragorn. He moved closer to the blonde, leaning against the counter with him. The pale blue tunic Legolas wore brought out his eyes which were hidden behind a simple white mask lined with glittering thread and small parts of diamonds.

“There you are,” Aragorn whispered once he was close enough, unconsciously reaching is hand up to run his fingers through silvery tresses, smiling softly.

He could see the soft rise of pink to pale cheeks and his smile widened a bit more as his hand dropped to his side.

“Have you been here the whole time?”

Legolas nodded, setting his water down after draining the last of his glass. “Bilbo needed help with the snacks, so I aided him with them. I just finished, actually, so good timing,” Legolas murmured, looking up at him through the holes for the eyes and Aragorn grinned.

“I’m the master of timing. I meet every single one of my deadlines.”

Now Legolas looked teasing, eyebrow cocked and his arms crossed, turning to face Aragorn and resting his side against the cabinet.

“Oh, really,” the blonde drawled and Aragorn tried not to lose himself in the sight of those pink lips shaping the words, the sudden flash of a pink tongue when he spoke the double ‘l’s.

“Really,” he responded and stepped a step forward. Legolas cocked his head back.

“Are you sure? Because I quite remember you telling me that you had a bit of a problem with meeting deadlines.”

“Not anymore, though.”

Legolas’s smile was shy, despite the cocky behavior as he ducked his head just a bit, looking up through pale lashes.

“Aragorn, I thought you said it was too early to drink!”

“Just because I’m in the kitchen does not mean I’m drinking, Boromir.”

The man laughed, loud and bright and Aragorn caught Legolas cringing away at the bit of beer that splashed out of the newly opened bottle and landed on the floor. He remembered Legolas telling him once that he detested the smell of alcohol, though he did drink at one point—the man had a ridiculously high tolerance to alcohol for someone who rarely drank.

“Of course not, of course not. And who are you talking to?”

Boromir walked over, setting his beer on the counter and holding out his hand before Aragorn could even bother to introduce them.

“I am Boromir.”

Legolas gently slipped his hand into the other man’s, shaking it gently. “Legolas,” he responded.

“Ah,” at that Boromir gasped, dropping Legolas’s hand after shaking it, looking over at Aragorn. “This is the one who’s going to help you with the two kids?”

Aragorn nodded his head shortly, not sure whether to be defensive about the blonde or not. He hated to think that Boromir might react to the blonde as his family had, but Boromir only grinned.

“He looks trust-worthy.”

“He looks like a prince,” Aragorn commented absentmindedly and he felt Legolas laugh next to him, their shoulders brushing just slightly. It sent a sort of electric shock through him, making him feel warm and toasty on the inside.

“Does he drink?”

“Not often.”

“Well, get him to at least try the punch—it’s not spiked, so don’t worry about your kids.”

It sounded odd, calling Smaug and Tragu their kids—his and Legolas’s—their family. But it was a good kind of odd. The kind that caused a small shiver to run down his spine in pleasure because he had a family—he had people close to him who wanted to be with him, who knew things about him and still wanted to know more.

It was nice and he found himself sagging against the counter slightly, his fingers stretching to brush his knuckles against Legolas’s arm, watching the blonde lean into the touch unconsciously. It was really nice and he felt his face heat up as he realized that.

The domesticity of it sent shivers down his spine, made his insides ache with the need for it because it felt good. He could already picture living a life with Legolas in their penthouse with Smaug and Tragu running about, with watching the twins bring friends home, with going out on family dinners, and falling asleep at night with Legolas in his arms, completely divulged of clothing and happily sated after a nice go around.

“That’s good, at least. The punch is one of Bilbo’s specialties. It’s really good and tradition, so you have to drink it.” He waved a finger teasingly in front of Legolas’s face. “No exceptions.”

Legolas laughed, soft and light and Boromir tossed him a knowing grin as he ambled away, tossing a reminder to drink the punch over his shoulder before going to tease his brother where he danced with Eowyn.

They were a sweet couple, though Aragorn was selfishly relieved that their honeymoon period should be coming to an end soon since he sincerely needed his editor back online to review his work. He couldn’t do with mistakes in his writing. Sometimes a simple handful of mistakes could make a major difference in between sales.

Legolas leaned closer.

“Did you tell them?”

“I did.”

“We should go tomorrow,” Legolas murmured, leaning a bit further and resting his head on Aragorn’s shoulder. The brunette grinned, knocking his forehead gently against Legolas’s.

“We should.”

The party was great, to say the least, though Aragorn was infinitely thankful for Legolas because he skillfully managed to avoid the majority of his family, though he did run into his father who told him he would be stopping by the penthouse tomorrow instead of tonight since it seemed as if Elladan and Elrohir had a bit too much to drink.

They were happily giggling in the corner, poking each other’s noses.

Aragorn had tried not to show his complete and utter relief over that as he nodded and smiled at his dad, telling him that it was fine. It was established that Elrond should show up by ten, he would leave at noon, and Legolas and the twins would go with Aragorn then to go fill out the adoption papers.

He tried not to cringe at how it seemed like way too much stress to endure in one day. A glance at Legolas, though, who was happily leaning against the wall, holding a soft conversation with Gimli, he knew it’d be fine.

Near the countdown, Legolas did eventually try the punch.

They stood in the corner, Legolas loosely holding the glass between his fingers, nearly empty as he rolled it from side to side softly.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“You doubted Bilbo’s skills? He makes out Japanese food, you know?”

Legolas laughed, shaking his head and biting his bottom lip softly. “No, I didn’t doubt him. I just feared it might be a bit too sweet.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Aragorn murmured as he turn his head to look over at the blonde nearly jumped as he realized their faces were a lot closer than he originally thought they were.

He could feel the soft exchange of breath, his heart pounding away inside his chest and he licked his lips unconsciously, eyes staring deep into blue pools. Distantly he could hear the shouting voices of people around them as they began the countdown.

_Ten…_

“You have to throw your mask up at the end, remember?”

_Seven…_

He could hear it in his own voice. He sounded out of breath and slightly strained.

_Four…_

Legolas nodded his head, setting the glass aside and lifting a hand to remove his mask slowly as Aragorn did the same.

_Three…_

Their free hands brushed accidentally, but the entwining of their fingers wasn’t accidental. He could barely hear through the roaring of blood in his ears and the frantic beating of his heart.

_Two…_

His mask dropped to the floor as his hand came up to cup Legolas’s face, bringing it closer and the blonde fell into the movement as their lips met finally.

_One…_

Pale fingers released a white mask as his hand came up to grip gently at the fabric covering Aragorn’s shoulder as he pressed closer, making a soft noise in the back of his throat.

They separated as Aragorn’s ears filled with the roar of cheers around them, people bidding each other a good year and good health, but his eyes remained fixed on Legolas’s. They were bright and warm and held a hundred promises that Aragorn didn’t need words to know they would be kept.

“Happy New Year,” he breathed out shakily before drawing the blonde back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Feel free to leave comments and kudos--both are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Have a great year in 2016!


	19. Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been super long, but I have been at war with this work for weeks now. I had every intention of finishing it, but as I was going along, I wanted to make the chapter longer, but then I reached the problem of dreaming up the perfect ending and then I realized "wait, this would shorten the length of the story" and it did.
> 
> Because it's done.
> 
> It's finished.
> 
> This is the final chapter, ladies and gentlemen!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> P.S.
> 
> As usual, this chapter is unbeta'd--even if it's the last one. Sorry.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> Also, this story is getting translated into Russian (what? I know, right? I found it so cool!) You can find it here!
> 
> https://ficbook.net/readfic/4141708
> 
> Also, if you want something cool to look at, read the order of the first letter of every chapter title and then the last word of this chapter.
> 
> Now, on to the final chapter!

Aragorn’s biggest fear was always that Legolas would hurt him, that if he handed his heart over to someone else, they wouldn’t take care of it.

However, handing his heart to Legolas was one of the easiest things he ever had to do.

When they had gotten home from the party, the twins had immediately gone to lie down amidst the trees, both tired and happy. The kisses they placed on both of their cheeks before walking into the forest still made Aragorn’s chest warm.

He and Legolas had walked over to where the fireplace was, loyally burning away. They had sat in front of it, letting it bathe them in warmth and when Aragorn cupped Legolas’s cheek and drew him in, the blonde came willingly; he let Aragorn pull him closer, roll their bodies over and settle himself between the blonde’s legs, kissing him slow and sweet.

They didn’t do more than kiss, just warm presses of lips on lips, never going further because although this seemed like a long time coming, they weren’t going to rush it. Neither of them planned on rushing it. They had been friends for practically a year. There was no way in hell Aragorn was going to rush this—going to risk screwing this up.

They fell asleep there, locked in an embrace with Legolas curled into the circle of Aragorn’s arms, soft breaths brushing over Aragorn’s neck.

The next day wasn’t awkward, like Aragorn expected. They went along in their usual way, but shared glances held more meaning, soft touches had more depth.

The exchanging of a soft brush of lips in the morning when they first arose was new, but not unwelcome.

Aragorn had to say that his favorite thing was how Legolas was letting him set the pace.

They didn’t need to talk about it. They knew what it meant.

With a single look, they could have entire conversations and Aragorn loved it.

Smaug and Tragu didn’t mention it, just went on with their shenanigans and didn’t act surprised or tease when they noticed them standing a bit closer together or how the frequent touches suddenly seemed just that bit more intimate.

When ten o’clock rolled around, Legolas urged the twins up into the trees, clambering up after them.

“We’ll keep our eyes open,” he assured Aragorn before disappearing amongst the leaves.

Even after the many months of having the forest in there, Aragorn couldn’t help still being in awe of how sturdy the trees were.

When his family entered the penthouse, it was to immediately stall by the elevator doors as they gaped at the towering trees and painted walls, the deep blue ceiling with the glittering star light.

“Where do you sleep?” Elrond asked, voice barely above a whisper, like the sight had taken away his strength. Arwen was silent next to him, her hand gripping Eomer’s tightly while Elladan and Elrohir merely gaped, eyes flickering over everything, drinking it all in.

“On the grass,” Aragorn replied, turning around and slipping into the throng of trees calling back a “leave your shoes by the elevator doors” before disappearing.

His only real reason for disappearing was to calm his suddenly racing heart because this was his home and he really shouldn’t feel so uncomfortable about letting his family see it, but he did. He loved his home, it was his safe haven and letting them in was like burning down the Secret Garden.

Absolutely stupid.

He nearly shrieked when Legolas dropped down in front of him, but managed to contain it to gasping like a fish and flailing backwards two steps before stabilizing himself.

“Hey, hey, Aragorn,” Legolas soothed, reaching his hand out and cupping the brunette’s cheek, running his thumb along his cheek bone and it was depressing yet heartening how easily the simple act managed to calm him, how it slowed his heart and yet sped it up at the same time. “You’re fine. This is going to go fine and when you’re done here, we get to go fill out the paperwork to keep Smaug and Tragu, okay?”

The blonde stepped closer and Aragorn’s hands immediately came up to grasp the blonde’s hips, drawing him close and resting their foreheads together, letting their breath mingle, letting the soft caress of the blonde’s fingers lull him into the sense of security the blonde always seemed to provide.

“Feeling better now?”

He opened his eyes, grey meeting blue and huffed a soft breath, letting their noses brush, a slow smile pulling at his lips and the blonde grinned in response. “Remember to shave before we leave,” were his parting words as he pulled back and went to the nearest tree, easily pulling his body up into the branches.

If Aragorn took a moment to take in the delightful view the action offered up, no one was around to know.

Unless Smaug and Tragu were watching.

In which case they had just caught him ogling Legolas’s rear.

The thought alone was a boner killer.

A really good boner killer, might he add.

“How can anyone live like this?” he heard coming from his right and turned around to take in the sight of his sister and her fiancée stumbling over roots holding each other’s hands tightly.

Proudly, Aragorn thought that Legolas would never stumble over a root like that. If he didn’t trust the ground, he would take to the branches; swing around in them like an acrobat, long limbs stretching, and muscles rolling sinuously.

He would dive through branches and leaves; stand on his hands, fingers gripping the bark, toes brushing the highest leaves. His knees would hook over a higher branch, he fling himself over, drop, plummet to the floor and catch himself on another branch with a soft hand, swing himself up and land on next branch in a perfect crouch.

Aragorn remembered how sullen Legolas was when he couldn’t go into the trees whenever he wished when he had hurt his ankle. The blonde would look up longingly at them, would lose sleep because of it.

“By living,” Aragorn responded in kind, ignoring the fact the question had been rhetorical.

Eomer’s eyes snapped up at the sound of his voice, face guarded, but there was a bit of amusement in his eyes that eased Aragorn’s slowly returning nerves.

He caught sight of a foot dangling behind Arwen’s head and doubled over whilst choking on air at the foot disappeared back up amongst the leaves. Coughing, he felt his lips involuntarily twitch as he caught Smaug poking her head out of the leaves, throwing him a saucy smirk and wink before disappearing once more.

Mentally he wondered what Legolas had told them.

It wasn’t possible that they knew exactly the moments when to appear, just as his nerves were rising.

In the end, Legolas had been right.

It had gone fine.

Elladan and Elrohir were in love with the place.

Elrond wasn’t overjoyed, but the sight of it seemed to ease any concerns he had for Aragorn’s financial status.

Arwen and Eomer were still a bit off with the whole thing after having nearly fallen more than five times, but as they were leaving, Eomer had said the place was nice.

As they gathered by the elevator, Aragorn called for Legolas and Smaug and Tragu to come down and they did, the three of them dropping from the branches and landing on either side of Aragorn. He barely suppressed a laugh because it seemed almost like a superhero thing.

“Have a nice day,” Legolas had said, placing his right hand over his left breast and bowing slightly, eyes dancing in delight. Smaug and Tragu mimicked him and Aragorn grinned before copying, taking in his family’s expressions as the elevator doors closed.

“Okay—everyone, go get ready,” Legolas instructed, placing gentle hands on the twins shoulders and ushering them to the stairs, giving the two a smile—Aragorn felt his heart melt a bit at the sight. “Aragorn,” Legolas called back and the brunette straightened immediately, putting on an innocent expression even though he hadn’t been doing anything wrong, “go shave. You two, get dressed. We have half an hour to get ready.”

“Alright!”

“And put on something nice,” Legolas yelled after them, sighing softly as he watched them run up the stairs.

Aragorn sauntered closer, his arm slipping around Legolas’s waist naturally, a familiar weight.

“This is nice,” he whispered, turning his head to the side and running his nose along Legolas’s temple, breathing in the scent of shampoo in the soft locks and the underlying scent of Legolas, sweet and familiar.

The blonde hummed leaning into him, letting Aragorn turn him around so that they were facing each other, letting Aragorn press their mouths together.

They didn’t need to talk about it.

And that alone was pretty damn nice.

 

 

 

 

“So, Aragorn’s got himself a family,” Boromir said as he lay sprawled out on Merry and Pippin’s couch, looking at the ceiling with a slightly unfocused gaze. The two male’s jerked up at the statement, eyes wide and surprised as they promptly ditched whatever they had been working on at the table, walking over.

“What?”

“Really?”

“Our Aragorn?”

Boromir smiled lazily, lifting his head to nod at them before lying back amongst the cushions, eyes slipping shut, smile never fading.

 

 

 

 

“If I gave you my heart, what would you do with it?”

Legolas shifted where he was lying, turning to face Aragorn, propping himself up on his elbow. Aragorn turned his head to look at him, took in how the lights on the ceiling made Legolas’s hair shine like a halo around his face and his skin look even softer than usual and how his eyes seemed to twinkle.

“I’d do my best to take care of it and keep it safe for when you want it back.”

The brunette grinned, small and teasing as he lifted himself up slightly so that their faces were just that much closer.

“And if I didn’t want it back?”

Legolas leaned in, just  a hair more, lashes lowering into a hooded gaze, eyes boring deep into Aragorn’s own.

“I’d still do my best to take care of it because it would kill me to hurt you.”

Aragorn’s smile turned full-fledged and he leapt up, wrapping his arms around the blonde and rolling through the grass with him, listening to the musical laughter than slipped past those sweet pink lips.

Lying on top of Legolas, in between his spread legs, gazing down at those brilliant cerulean eyes and the silver gold tresses that fanned around a pale face, Aragorn didn’t feel as scared as he thought he would.

Love still seemed terrible, still seemed painful and excruciating and a game of chance that he would rather not play because he was gambling with his feeling and he didn’t want to get hurt, but when he looked down at Legolas—looked down at the man who had lived on the streets, who had put his life on the line, had risked everything, to get a job, to get his stuff together, he couldn’t look away.

He couldn’t avoid it. It was inevitable, the two of them.

As cliché as it sounded, even in his head, it was true—and Aragorn was a writer. Cliché was half of the job description.

“What if I told you that I want to make that hypothetical situation less hypothetical?”

Legolas’s arms looped around his neck, toying with the brown locks, letting them slide through his fingers, nails scratching at his scalp pleasantly, and sending shivers down his spine.

“Are you certain?”

Leaning down, he placed a chaste kiss on the side of the blonde’s neck; let his nose trail a line up the pale column.

“You’ve proven to be a man of your word.”

Legolas smiled a bit, but he looked worried now, leaning up a bit, propping himself on a bent arm. “Aragorn, don’t feel like you have to—”

“I want to,” Aragorn whispered, dragging his nose over a soft cheek before pulling back to gaze down at those expressive pools of blue that he fell in love with.

Ha.

Love.

He would have never thought.

“Take it.”

Legolas tilted his head to the side, leaned a bit closer. They were both moving closer, hesitant, yet happy all at once.

“You do realize I most likely will never want to give it back, right?”

Aragorn grinned, wolfish and happy, happier than he had felt in years.

“Good.”

And he once more kissed his artist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it, guys. That's the end. I couldn't find a way around this. This story was originally supposed to be twenty five chapter long and an extra chapter for an epilogue, so twenty six in total, but I guess it wasn't meant to be. I'm super sorry for the long wait. I was trying to see if there was a way I could put this ending off just a bit longer, but I kept coming back to it and it stuck.
> 
> Let me know what you guys thought in the comments below! Feel free to drop kudos, also!
> 
> Don't forget that you can check out my other stories, if you want. There's some Stony, Spideypool, Thorki, probably some more Marvel stuff coming soon. I might put out a Malec fic soon.
> 
> There's no other for this fandom as of yet, but I'll probably be letting out some one shots that may or may not take place in this universe. It depends.
> 
> Thank you so much, yet again! It was great fun writing this story. It was my first one of this site and you guys made it super enjoyable and fun and I love you all!
> 
> Feel free to find me on instagram--username: saruma_aki

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Sorry if it was bad and I'll try to update soon. Please be patient. Comments would be greatly appreciated and please feel free to leave kudos to let me know that you have enjoyed my work. Thank you.
> 
> Feel free to follow me on instagram, same username ( saruma_aki ) <3


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